Shadow Of A Day
by vsvigilante
Summary: A young woman is found by V, beaten almost beyond recognition. After being nursed back to health in the Shadow Gallery, she tries to come to terms with her savior-----will she be able to handle V's plans for her, and for the future?
1. Beginings

AN: This is a story for one of my fans out there------it's a birthday present---you know who you are, and I hope you enjoy this as much as I am writing it. Happy Birthday, good friend! As before, I don't own anything of V's-----only my ideas......

_**Shadow of a Day**_

_**Chapter 1**_

_**' Beginnings '**_

He moved through the shadows cast by the buildings, knowing the darkness would never refuse him the safety it offered. Just a few short hours earlier, he had taken out three fingermen with silent and deadly precision, and was returning to his home when a form, lying against one of the walls caught his eyes. It looked to be a human body, a ragged blanket thrown across a limp figure. Reaching down, he pulled a knife from the belt around his waist, his enhanced senses on high alert for any hidden dangers. Scouring the area, he found nothing to alarm him, and kneeled beside the form. Throwing back the cover, V discovered a young woman----bruises and cuts covering her pale skin. He slid the knife silently back into place while swearing at a god who would allow such an atrocity to be carried out in the first place. Taking the black leather glove off his right hand, he searched for a pulse in the thin wrist he was pressing against and was rewarded with a slight thumping under his fingers. Pulling the cover over her nakedness, he reached down, picking her up in his arms, and continued on his way.

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Eyelids fluttered slightly open-----swollen so badly that all she could make out were shades of grays. Evey inch of her body was in pain from the beating she had taken. This had been the worst one yet she had received from Alex, simply because she would not sell her body to finance his drug habit.

" You are safe here, little one." He had bathed her, dressed her in one of his linen shirts and bandaged her cuts. She now lay in his bed, a warm comforter tucked in around her. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, and smiled as he thought about the battle he had with the length of it as he gently cleaned her up. " You must rest now, so you can regain your strength. I shall be back to check on you later and bring you some warm broth if you are hungry." A low voice spoke gently to her. V could sense that the girl was drifting into darkness once again, and removed the cool wash cloth from her forehead, placing it into the wash basin. There was heavy bruising on her face and cuts covered her body----he treated them with herbal salve and ointment he had created for his own use, but unfortunately, some would still scar the girl's body. Hopefully, the scaring wouldn't be too bad. Picking up the basin he rose to his feet, trying to get the kinks out of his back, then entered the bathroom emptying the water down the sink, returning the basin to its proper place.

He walked down the hallway and into the main room of the gallery. Collapsing on the red settee, he pulled his boots off and stretched out, one arm resting on his head, the other across his stomach. 'I'll rest for only a few moments....' He thought to himself, closing his eyes behind the mask. Forty-eight hours without rest had taken its toll on him, and within seconds, he was sound asleep.

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The girl woke with a start sometime later, her eyes taking their time to adjust to the light seeping through the opening in the doorway. Straining to sit up, pain ripped through her body as she used her arms for leverage. Pushing the covers away, she saw she wore a clean shirt, and bandages covered several large cuts on her arms and legs. Slowly, she threw her legs over the edge of the huge bed, and stood up, her body responding in angry protest-----but she knew if she did not move around, she would become stiff, and it would take longer to heal. She looked down at the shirt that covered her body, the cuffs laying past most of her hands. The material was soft and luxurious, something she had never felt before. Gathering her courage, she hobbled to the doorway, and pulled it open, sticking her head out into the hallway. The corridor continued down for hundreds of feet, opening into several more hallways. She stared at the paintings and statues that lined the walls as she moved. The pain she was experiencing slowed her walk to almost a crawl, but she continued forward to the first adjoining hallway. Stopping briefly, she noticed a door to her left at the end of the corridor, but to the right, she found that the hallway disappeared into shadows and darkness. She looked ahead, seeing an archway that opened into a large area at the end of the several statues. She continued down the hallway finally walking into one of the most beautiful rooms she had ever seen. Statues sat in corners and various other locations, paintings lined the walls, and a piano sat center, a tapestry thrown across its top. What caught her attention though, ( she must have been asleep for a time, because the swelling had gone down enough that she could actually see a little) was some kind of machine that kept changing colors every few seconds.

" It's called a jukebox." The same voice from her dream spoke to her. She turned abruptly, and threw herself off balance, but two strong arms caught her before she hit the floor. " You should not be out of bed." He turned and started back the way she had come from. Looking up, she stared into a mask----but for some reason, she did not feel frightened by the marionette face, but her arm around his neck did tighten somewhat. Reaching the bedroom door, he pushed it open, settled her once again in the bed, and pulled the covers up to her waist. She stared at him, as he stared at her, his head tilted to the right as if in observation.

" Thank you." She whispered softly, her throat sore from the trauma she had taken. It was then that V noticed the deep purple marks that had appeared around her throat over night---- his blood began to boil, as his hands clenched into fists by his side.

" Who did this to you?" He asked, his voice low and ominous.

She lowered her eyes from the mask, but did not speak.

V sighed deeply. She would answer his questions in her own time. The fists relaxed as the gloved hands clasped each other in front of his waist. " May I ask whom I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

" Tiffany." She replied, eying him.

" Tiffany...." The man repeated, " That's a very lovely name."

" Thank you......who are you?" She looked at him. The man before her was dressed entirely in black from the top of his head to the boots he wore.

V chuckled at her bluntness. " I have no name, but you may call me V."

Tiffany crossed her arms above her waist. " Why don't you have a name? Are you a murderer or something?" The only people that wore masks were ones being hunted by the law.

" It is a long story, " V sighed heavily, " one that I do not wish to discuss at this moment."

" Oh." She looked away from him.

" Would you like something to eat?" V asked, once again staring at her.

"Yes, thank you." She answered as he turned to leave, " oh....by the way...."

He looked over his shoulder at her. " Yes?"

" Ah...where am I?" She asked.

" In my home, I call it the Shadow Gallery." He continued out the door.

"Nice guy....." Tiffany mumbled under her breath as she looked around the room . It was very large and very masculine----it smelled like V. She smiled as she remembered the scent of him-----god, it was intoxicating. Sandalwood, musk and leather-----enough to make any woman's heart jump out of their chest! Her mind went back to the exploration of the room. It was done in hues of black, gray and red. Several tapestries hung on the walls, and what seem to be old fashioned furniture graced the room----but one funny thing did catch her eye------there were no mirrors anywhere----not even a hand-held one.

V walked through the door carrying a tray in his gloved hands---sitting the it on a nearby table, and helped her to sit up in the bed, then placed the tray on her lap, he standing before her. " Would you like a cup of tea to go with your lunch?" He inquired.

" Yes, thank you." She smiled up at him, pain spreading across her face. She lowered her eyes. " I must look horrid."

" The bruises and cuts will heal." He replied softly as he reached out his hand, but stopped midway. " I'll get your tea." She watched as he left the room. 'What a strange man he is.' She thought as she dug into the beef broth and fresh baked bread. It had been days since she had eaten, and the bread with the real butter set her taste buds alive.

" Do you like it?" V startled her as he entered the room, placing the cup of hot tea on the table, within her reach.

" It's wonderful." She looked up at him, the spoon in her hand. " You are really a good cook."

V tilted his mask, " Thank you." He paused, looking around the room. " When you are finished, please call and I will remove the tray."

She nodded as another spoonful of the wonderful soup went into her mouth.

" There is an adjoining loo through that door if you would like to take a bath. I will be going out tonight for awhile. If you wish, you may explore the gallery if you get bored."

" Thank you, V." Tiffany replied as she took a sip of the warm tea.

V bowed and left her to her privacy.

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Tiffany lay back in the large claw-footed tub, just relaxing. The hot water was relaxing her muscles---the pain, much easier to bear now. She took the fragrant shampoo and poured a large amount into her hand so she could scrub all the filth from her waist length brown hair. It had surprised her when she had turned the water on-------- finding the shampoo and matching soap piled neatly in a small silver tray close to the tub. Tiffany had found it strange that neither the bottle or the light colored paper the soap was wrapped in, was without any type of identifying mark. She smiled as she inhaled the herbal scent of the liquid. Lathering her hair up, she scrubbed her scalp until it started to hurt, finally accepting that it was as clean as she could get it. Holding her breath, she ducked below the water and rinsed the soap free, sitting up in the tub again splashing water over the side, she wiped her eyes just as a knock sounded on the door.

" Tiffany----are you ok? I heard a noise...." V's voice startled her. Damn! She wished that he would stop sneaking up on her!

" I'm fine, V. I'll be out in a minute."

" Very well."

She heard his boots disappearing down the hallway, and placed both shampoo and soap back in the tray. Rising slowly from the tub, she stepped free, onto a thick rug. Picking up one of the three black towels, she wrapped her hair up, then took another and carefully dried herself. Most of the bandages V had applied to her cuts had come loose in the tub, and she picked the discarded pile up and threw them into the trash can. Slowly, she pulled the black linen shirt over her body, and adjusted it to cover all parts of her. Exiting the bathroom, a black robe laying on the bed caught her eyes. Reaching out, she touched the material cautiously----it, like everything else in the gallery was simply wonderful! She pulled it on over the shirt, tying the belt around her waist and headed down the hallway where music was emanating from. Stopping silently under the archway, she watched as V bent over the jukebox---as he called it---pressing buttons.

" Ah, there you are." He smiled under the mask, looking up at her. " I see you found the robe."

How the hell did he do that? " Yes, thank you." She blushed.

" I procured a few half gallons of some very good ice cream the other night on my way back to the Shadow Gallery. Would you care for some?" He asked standing by the Wurlitzer, his hands clasped at his waist.

" Yes!" Tiffany exclaimed as she moved toward him.

" This way, mademoiselle." He offered his arm to her, which she accepted as he led her toward the kitchen. He pulled out a chair from the table for her, then walked to one of the cabinets.

" Hmmmm....let's see......" He opened the door, and stared inside. " We have chocolate, strawberry, butterscotch, caramel, blueberry, raspberry and pineapple. " V paused, looking back at Tiffany. " Which would you prefer-----although I do suggest just the straight syrup. It would be easier on your throat."

Tiffany's eyes widen like a child in a candy shop-------she had never seen so many toppings in her life------hell, she was happy just to get one a year, let alone being able to choose the flavor she wanted. " Caramel, please."

V reached up, taking the jar down, sitting it on the table along with a bowl and spoon.

She watched as he placed the bowl before her-----where was his? " Aren't you going to have some?"

V shrugged his shoulders, " Maybe later." He opened the freezer and took out one of the half-gallons of vanilla ice cream, opened it and scooped some into her bowl, handing it to her. Next came the caramel syrup. Tiffany took the jar from him and began to pour until there was at least a half-inch in the bowl. Under the mask, a hairless eyebrow rose as a smile stretched across thin lips.

Closing her eyes, she savored the rich creamy taste in her mouth.

" Do you like it?" V asked, his voice soft.

" Oh god....it's been so long since I've had ice cream...." She sighed softly as a chuckle escaped the mask and he rose from the table, replacing the ice cream in the freezer.

" I will be returning sometime later this evening. You will be safe here." He walked around the corner of the table to stand by her. " I fixed a Shepard's Pie for you. If you become hungry, set the oven at 375 and leave it in for ten minutes." He turned to walk away from her.

" V?" Her hand on his arm stopped him.

He looked at her hand, then at her. " Yes?"

She pulled her hand back. " I just wanted to say thanks, " She paused, " and be careful out there."

V tilted his head toward her. He wondered if she had concerns for him, or the fact that if anything happened to him, she would be stuck here for some time. Nodding his head, he walked down the hallway.

Tiffany watched as he strode away, looking at his frame. He definitely had a nice solid figure, and his arse wasn't bad either! She sensed that under all that black was a very muscular torso, and the signs of strength radiated from him in waves. She wouldn't want to be on his bad, that was definite! She giggled softly finishing off the last of the ice cream and placing the bowl in the sink, and slowly walked toward the telly room.

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V placed the last detonation device carefully inside the small hole he had made in the side of the building. The timers had all been set for 4 minutes, which was definitely long enough for him to get away. He smiled under the mask as he rose to his feet, throwing the black leather bag over his shoulder.

" Hold it right there!" The voice broke through the darkness, " Get your hands up---now!"

V raised his hands above his head and slowly turned around. " How odd----that I miscalculated your break time, Officer Jonas."

" Here now, how ya' know my name?" The middle-aged man asked as V observed him. A good solid punch to the right-side of his chin should do the trick, and the man lay unconscious at his feet in a matter of seconds.

" I 'd stand real still if I were you, chummy." Another voice rang through the night from V's left.

" I don't have time for this bullocks.....' V mumbled to himself as one of his knives flew from his hand just as a gun shot echoed through the night's stillness, and V felt a sharp burning sensation in his right shoulder as his knife hit it's target, and the other officer fell to the ground dead. Staggering just a second, V's hand went to his shoulder, coming away with a wet sticky substance, the smell of copper catching his nose under the mask. " Damn!" He swore to himself walking over and extracting his knife from the man, wiping it on his shirt, then replacing it in the leather belt around his waist. Pulling his pocket watch from the doublet, he checked the time------he had less than a minute...... Grabbing the unconscious guard, he drug him into the safety of some nearby bushes, and then ran like hell toward the closest alleyway just as the bombs went off sending a blazing cloud of oranges and reds into the night sky. " Beautiful, simply beautiful." V whispered as he watched from the shadows. The newest building of the Norsefire regime was no longer. He turned and headed back to the gallery as the first of the sirens split the night.


	2. Life's Little Edge

_**Chapter**_ 2

_**' Life's Little Edge '**_

V leaned against the wall in the tunnel cursing as blood dripped through his gloved hand and onto the dirt. The dim light from overhead was just enough so he could see how badly he was bleeding. He forced himself from the wall and continued down the tunnel to the hidden entrance of the gallery. Reaching inside a small opening, he pulled the tripwire that lay inside, then stepping back, he watched as the door opened slowly. Releasing his shoulder momentarily, he pulled it close after him. Following the corridor some distance , V reached the archway of the main room. Laying his hat on the piano top, he looked around to see if Tiffany was any where in sight------it must have been late---the lights were in the night mode, and she was nowhere to be seen. Carefully, he reached up and unfastened the cape's button, and let it fall to the floor.

" V?" A sleepy voice filtered through the room.

Looking up briefly, he found her standing in the hallway leading to her room. " Go back to bed, ." He said in a strained voice.

Tiffany suddenly was wide awake, and moving toward him quickly. She inhaled a sudden breath as she got close enough to see the liquid dripping onto the floor. " You're hurt...." She hurried to the switch, adjusting the lights so she could see him-----and the blood running through his gloved hand. " Oh my god.....you've been shot!" her hand flew to her mouth as she stood staring.

" Your powers of observation are keen, I see." He replied as he began feeling his legs starting to give out on him-----how could he have lost that much blood in such a short time? He had to get to the infirmary and stop the bleeding.

" Is there anything I can do----call an ambulance or something?" She asked laying a hand on his arm. " V, you have to get help, or you're going to die!"

" No!" The words roared from the mask's lips. " No doctor, no hospital....." His voice broke off. " If you would kindly help me to the infirmary, I would be grateful."

She moved to his side, placing his good arm around her shoulder. " Where are we going?"

" Down the hallway to the left, last door on the right." He inhaled sharply as she walked slowly down the hallway.

" Is there anything I can do?" Tiffany asked again as he leaned against the door.

" No, thank you." He replied as he opened the door, and slipped inside, locking it behind him.

Sighing, she walked back toward her room. What in the world had he been doing to get shot? At that moment, Tiffany realized just how little she knew about her captor. She closed the bedroom door behind her.

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V pulled the gloves off so he could work on his wound. He unbuttoned the black doublet slowly, pain shooting up his right arm as he used his fingers. Taking it off was a different story all together----he worked his right arm free, then gently pulled his left out, white flashes of pain jabbing behind his eyelids. Finally, the garment fell to the floor. The tight black Lycra undershirt was next----he pulled it up and over his head, taking the mask and wig with it-----all three hitting the floor next to the coat. Taking his right hand, V explored the wound-----it seemed that the guard's bullet had caught him between the clavicle and scapula, missing the bones, lodging in the flesh. Satisfied with his own diagnoses, V reached for the alcohol and a tray sitting on a nearby stand. He saturated a cloth and began to clean the blood from around the wound until he could see the entrance. Picking up a sterilized package, V tore the forceps open and took them out. With a piece of leather between his teeth, he began the task of removing the bullet and stitching himself up.

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The smell of bacon cooking roused Tiffany from a restless sleep. Stretching, she wondered how Alex had gotten the money to buy such a thing-----then she remembered where she was, how she had gotten here------and, who she was with. Throwing the covers back, she rose from the bed. It had been two weeks since she had been brought here, and in those two weeks, she had learned nothing about her captor, except to trust him. He had always been polite to her, treated her with respect, and had looked after her needs-----she wondered how long it would be before he kicked her out.

" Good morning, V." She yawned sleepy as he turned, skillet in hand.

" Bonjour, mademoiselle! Comment vas-tu aujourd'hui?" He asked, flipping whatever was in the pan.

" Huh?" She asked, dumbfounded.

" Good morning, miss. How are you today?" V grinned under the mask as he translated the French for her.

" Oh." A soft blush settled across her cheeks. " Good morning."

" Did you sleep well last night?" He asked as he placed the eggy-in-a-basket on a nearby plate.

" Wonderfully, thank........." She stopped as she caught sight of his hands. " V....your hands....."

" Ah, yes...." He turned quickly away from the stove and pulled on the leather gloves laying next to the sink. " There, that's better." He held his hands up for inspection. " I do hope I didn't put you off of your appetite."

" No.....what happened?" She asked, peering into the dark slits that were suppose to be eyes.

" A fire some time ago that many have forgotten about. Doesn't make good table conversation I'm afraid. Would you like a cup of tea to go with your breakfast?"

" Yes, thank you." She smiled back at him.

" Have a seat, then." He said placing the plate before her.

Tiffany sat down, looking up at him. " You're not eating? She asked.

V sighed, crossing his hands at the wrist. " We have had this discussion several times already."

" I know, but I can hope that one of these days you'll change your mind, can't I?" She flashed a bright smile at him, and he couldn't help but return it under the mask. Her attitude had definitely changed over the last few weeks. Her cuts and bruises were fading more every day, her appetite had increased-----and she had the most beautiful eyes, he had suddenly realized several days ago----now, that he could see them. She was at least a head shorter than he, which would bring her right to his chest, and avery feminine figure to boot. He would have to soon go on one of his night time raids to procure clothing for her----he couldn't keep her in one of his shirts until she healed and was ready to leave. At that thought, a sudden ping of loneliness crept into the small crack in his heart that had been developing. Why would she even consider staying here----especially with him? She had no idea of the monster that hid under the Fawkes mask------if she had known, she would have left a long ago.

" Oh V......" Her voice pulled him from his harmful thoughts, " I still can't believe this is real butter! God, I haven't had real butter in years....."

He eyed her. " As you have stated many times before."

She blushed again as she spooned part of the toast and egg into her mouth.

" If I may ask, how did you end up in the alley?" He watched her expression from under the safety of Fawkes' likeness, wondering if she would once again put off telling him the answer he seeked.

She took a deep breath, and looked up at him. " It's a long story."

" I seem to have a lot of time on my hands today." He replied as he took the pink and white striped apron off, returning it to the wall hook by the stove. " If you feel up to it, we can talk." V pulled a chair out and sat.

" I had been living with my boyfriend since I was sixteen. He got hung on drugs, and punched me around because I wouldn't support his drug habit." She answered, turning her attention back to her breakfast.

V sat, just looking at her----she was still a child----not much over 17 he guessed, and already abused by this nightmare of a world. He rose from the chair, turning away from her. " You know that you are welcome to stay here as long as you like."

The fork in her hand dropped and V turned to her, his eyes on the fork. She was staring at him, her mouth open----just staring, not moving at all.

" I can?" The voice that came from her, was no more than a kitten's meow, and tears filled her eyes.

" Of course." V replied watching as they cascaded down her cheeks and onto the table top. He walked over to where she sat, kneeling beside her. " We'll have no more of that now...." He wiped a tear away with his gloved hand, and she could feel the heat coming through the leather. She closed her eyes.....and the hand pulled away abruptly. The blue-gold eyes looked into the mask's slits, and her arms went around his neck in a hug.

" Thank you........No one has every been so nice to me before." She sobbed quietly as he removed her arms from his neck and stood up.

" No harm shall ever come to you again." His voice was emotional, and she knew that he meant every word he had just spoken. He cleared his throat. " I shall be gone tonight for some time, and probably not return until early morning."

" Ok." She answered, looking up at him.

" Once you are dressed, would you please meant me in the telly room."

" Yeah, sure."

" I have something I want to show you." He replied pausing by the archway.

" I'll be there in a few minutes." Tiffany smiled as she rose from the table, sitting the plate in the sink, pausing beside V just long enough to place a soft kiss on Fawkes' porcelain cheek. " Thank you." She touched his arm gently, then hurried down the hallway.

V watched as she disappeared, then looked down at the place where her hand had touched his arm. Chaos shot back and forth across his mind as he tried to come to grip with the feelings he had thought were long forgotten. ' Stop this!' He screamed in his mind-----for 20 years he had not felt another's touch on his body-----except when protecting himself, and now, he was behaving like some love-sick fool! By the gods-----he was at least thirty years her senior! He must not forget his vendetta------**_' The only verdict is vengeance, a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain.....' _**He whispered softly-----Fate was indeed a fickle mistress and one that would not share.

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Tiffany quickly brushed her waist length hair and slapped it into a sloppy ponytail. V's shirt hung past her knees, and the pants he had given her to wear were way to big. She had found a rope among the many books scattered across the bedroom floor, making a makeshift belt. Quickly running her hands over the sweats, she hurried from the bedroom and down the hallway.

" V, I'm ready!" She called as she screeched to a halt on the gallery's stone floor. He was standing by the jukebox. Tiffany's mouth dropped----she could hardly breath. He was no longer dressed in the black doublet, but instead wore a light blue linen shirt with a black vest. His muscular legs were encased in black doeskin breeches accented by his black knee boots.

He tilted his head and looked at her. ' Yes, pants and tops are definitely called for.' He mentally made a note. Yet, dressed as she was, he found her to be very alluring and beautiful. Clearing his throat and mind of such thoughts, he came to stand by her. " There is a lift that will take us to the roof."

" Really?" Her eyes grew bright as he gently placed his hand on her lower back, escorting her down the hallway to the entrance. Opening the door, he slid the gate open and stepped inside, moving to the right to allow her to join him. The gate rattled shut as the lift croaked and groaned making it's way to the rooftop. In a minute or two, it opened into a world of sunshine and light breezes. The two stepped away, and walked toward the parapet. V placed his gloved hands on the ledge, and looked out over the London skyline. ' _**The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.'**_' He spoke softly.

Tiffany glanced at him. " That was beautiful.......Shakespeare?" She paused, then smiled, "What does it mean?"

V sighed, " It simply means that the future belongs to those that dream." V looked out over the skyline, "It was spoken by one of the United States most powerful women, Eleanor Roosevelt."

" Oh." She replied, " She lived a long time ago-----I remember reading about her in my school."

" Over one hundred years ago." V answered.

" It's so beautiful up here." Tiffany sighed peacefully, " London looks so peaceful and serene-----you'd never know such bastards as Creedy and Sutler exist."

" Their reign of terror will come to a close." V replied as the breeze blew his wig gently.

" What do you mean?"

" I am going to end it." He turned back to look out over his lost city.


	3. I Hear Voices In My Head

_**Chapter 3**_

_**' I Hear Voices In My Head......'**_

_**' This is not one of your smarter ideas.....'**_'

" And why not?" V asked calmly as he continued to work on the small bomb laying on the table in front of him.

_**' She is a distraction from your work.....from me......'**_'

" Why do you say that? I have not forgotten about you, nor have I ignored you." He answered as he carefully placed the timer alongside the explosives, and closed the compartment door. " See, " he sighed as a small smile broke across leathery lips. " Another one is finished, just for you my love."

_**' I love it when I am the only thing on your mind......'**_

V chuckled to himself, " Flattery will get you nowhere, madame.

A soft feminine laugh echoed through V's head. _**' It brought me you......'**_

" Yes, " He sighed deeply, looking at his bare hands, " It did."

_**' Rest my love, for we have much to do......'**_

" Another swift blow that will bring Norsefire closer to its demise." V mumbled as he slid the mask back in place, then quickly covered the hideous sight before him once again in leather gloves. Rising from the stool, he left, locking the door behind him. Strolling back into the main room of his home, he stopped in front of one of his favorite paintings---_**Ophelia by John Everett Millias. **_Hands clasped in front of him, he looked up at the painting and dissolved into nothingness. Tiffany found him several minutes later in the same position, having not moved a muscle.

" V?" She approached him, watching silently, as he swayed slightly back and forth, the mask's stare never leaving the beautiful young woman who had met her fate by drowning. " V?" She spoke his name a little louder, but he did not respond. Finally touching him, he seemed to snap back to reality.

" My apologies Tiffany.....do you need something?" He tilted his head toward her.

" Who is she?" She asked studying the picture. " She's beautiful."

" Ophelia, a young woman in love with treachery, I'm afraid." V released a deep breath, " She was in love with Shakespeare's Hamlet."

" Why is she laying in water for?"

V looked at the young woman in the painting and sighed softly. " She was drove to madness because of his lies----she slipped while walking beside the pool, and drowned."

Tiffany felt a sudden sadness wash over her as she looked at the painting with V. " I guess love can cause people to do awful and sad things."

V turned to her. " Why do you say that?"

" Because Alex always told me he loved me, and I believed him." A lone tear slid slowly down her cheek, " And it almost got me killed." She began crying, softly at first, but soon large sobs ripped from her. " Why? Why did he do that to me for, V? I loved him!"

He pulled her into his arms gently, and held her close as she cried everything she had been holding inside, out. A gloved hand came up to gently stroke her head as he tried to comfort her, and he felt her arms wrap around his waist. V became uncomfortable with the situation he found himself in as feelings came to life deep inside him, he slowly pushed her away. " You called him Alex. How long had you known him?" He asked changing the subject.

" I first met him when I was 16. He took me in off the streets." She answered in between hiccups as the tears subsided.

" Where was your family?" V asked gently as he guided Tiffany into the kitchen, sitting her at the table

" Dead." She replied, " They were killed in the first reclamination wave----protesting against Norsefire. I've been on the streets since I was fifteen." She watched as he took a cup down from the cabinet, filled the teapot with water and sat it on the stove to heat. " I learned my way around enough to survive out there, then I met Alex and he took me in."

" Does this Alex have a last name?" He asked her, gently prodding to get the information he needed.

" Jackson. Why?"

" Curiosity."

" I hate him for what he did to me." Her eyes burned with a deep seated anger.

' **And he will pay for what he did to you......and pay dearly.' **V smiled behind the mask. He sat a steaming cup of tea before her, then opened the refrigerator taking out the milk placing it beside the sugar and spoon on the table. He sat down opposite her. " Did you have a chance to finish your education?"

" No, " She sighed, " That's the only thing I wanted to do, but couldn't." V watched as Tiffany stirred milk into her tea.

" I would be honored to teach you," He paused, the mask tilting to the left, " if you wish, that is." His hands flat on the table.

" You would?" Bright eyes locked with his. God, how he loved her eyes----the gold specks seemed to sparkle when she was excited.

" Of course. " He rose from the table. " We'll start this evening. I'm afraid it would be very long because of a prior engagement I must keep."

Tiffany looked up at him. " Blowing more things up?" She smiled.

V cocked his head in amusement----how did she know?

" It's all over the telly....." She replied sipping the hot liquid slowly, " Seems you've been very busy at night while I sleep."

V head lowered. " I did not wish for you to become involved in my plans."

" What plans?" Tiffany questioned.

" The ones I have for Norsefire." He answered, raising his head.

" What did you mean the other night V, when you said you were going to stop them?" Tiffany watched as he moved around the kitchen.

" Just what I said. I'm going to stop them." He replied.

" By blowing up buildings? The only thing that's going to do is get you killed." She replied, fear showing in her voice for him.

V walked to the sink, and leaned up against it. " A building is a symbol, as is the act of destroying it. Symbols are given power by people. A symbol, being a building or anything else in and of itself is powerless, but with enough people behind it, blowing up a building can change the world." (1)

" So you're going to try and change the world by blowing up buildings?" Tiffany asked as V crossed his arms and looked at her.

" How ever many it takes to get their attention." He answered.

" I wish I could help-----they took everything I ever held close to my heart."

Behind Fawkes' mask , a hairless eyebrow rose.

" I hate Norsefire, I hate Creedy and Sutler." She spoke , venom lacing her voice.

" Would you?" V's voice was soft as he asked the question.

" Would I help bring down Norsefire if I could----hell yeah!" She exclaimed pushing the chair from the table. " I hate those bastards! Every fucking one of them!"

V stood silent, not moving, and barely breathing. He thought he would never hear those kind of words spewing from her lips.

" V, if there is anything---making bombs, planting them----I don't care----that I can do to help your cause, please let me help." She looked at him, her eyes wide with excitement. " I'm a quick learner, honest."

" We'll talk about it later----but right now, I have something for you. Would you come with me?"

" Where are we going?" Tiffany asked.

" I have brought you some clothes." He replied, strolling from the kitchen, Tiffany on his heels.

" Clothes?" She repeated following him into the cinema room and over to the large sofa that sat against the wall. Tiffany's eyes bulged at the sight that greeted her------boxes from floor to sofa covered the entire area around her. " Oh my......."

" Would you like to open them here, or in the privacy of your room?" V asked her, smiling under the mask.

" Here, please......." Her voice trailed off, " Oh, V.....I don't know what to say......"

V motion to one of the larger boxes on the couch. " Please....."

Tiffany pushed several boxes over so she could have a place to set, then untied the large one V had been pointing to. Opening it, she found several pair of denim jeans and shirts tucked inside. After an hour or so, she picked up the last one on the floor-----but this one was different-----there were holes punched into the sides, and something was moving around within it. She looked up at V----" What....?"

" You may want to hurry with that one." He replied calmly.

Carefully, Tiffany untied the big red bow from the box and lifted the lid slowly-------two bright green eyes stared back at her as a small black kitten peered bravely over the the top.

" V, she's beautiful......." Tiffany lifted the small black bundle of fur onto her lap.

V placed some of the opened boxes on the floor and sat beside her, tilting his head. " I know that the Shadow Gallery can become a very boring place to a young teenage girl such as yourself, and I didn't want you to be frightened or lonely while I am away at night........"

Tiffany took the mask in her hands and kissed the pink cheek gently. " Thank you."

V felt heat rising to his face as she looked into his eyes-----she may not have been able to see the dark eyes that looked at her with deep emotion, but he saw everything that hers held. " What will you name her?"

" I......I don't know.......I've never had a pet before....." Tiffany said, pausing, then a smile crossed her lips as she looked a mewling fur ball in her hands. " Your name shall be Viola."

" Twelfth Night." V answered softly.

" Yes, " Tiffany looked over at him, " She was one of my favorite characters. My Mum use to read me Shakespeare's plays when I was little-------I always wanted to be an actress......

" Viola it shall be....." V reached a gloved hand out to pet the kitten, but suddenly found his finger ina death grip from sharp little claws, and kicking back feet.

Tiffany laughed, " I think she likes you."

" Undoubtedly, but I do wish she would unhand me....." V tried to pull away, but was caught in the vicious trap Viola had set for him. " See here now, you......."

" Viola, that's not nice......." Tiffany pried the claws from V's hand......." Be a good girl and let go....." The kitten looked up at her new mistress, and landed in Tiffany's lap, cleaning herself, purring contentedly.

" Foul beast......" V muttered under his breath.

Tiffany looked up at V and giggled softly.

Crossing his hands by his waist, V's head tilted toward her----as if he were expecting an explanation.

Tiffany looked up at him, an innocent expression crossing her face. " At least, she protective."

V humphed under the mask, " Vicious little beast....."

" V-e-e-e-e-e......." Tiffany wined as she put the little creature next to her face and kissed it gently.

" What?" He asked.

" She is not vicious....."

" She has ruined a very good pair of my gloves." He raised his hand for her to see the area that had been punctured by tiny teeth and sharp claws.

" You'll live....." Tiffany giggled at him.

" I will be out late again tonight, Tiffany. You need not wait up." He changed the subject.

" Try not to get yourself shot again, ok?" She looked up at him.

Turning, he began to leave.

" V...." Tiffany caught up to him, her hand laying on his arm. "I really mean it, please be careful......" She looked up into the mask, her eyes searching for his. " I don't want you to get hurt again." Standing on tiptoes, she kissed the edge of his cheek, then quickly hurried to the couched, scooped up Ophelia, and almost ran from the room.

V watched as she left. He would have to start her night training very soon.

(1) **V for Vendetta**


	4. Hold On My Heart

**Chapter 4**

**Hold On My Heart**......

Viola laid curled beside Tiffany, not paying attention to the black-clad form sitting in the nearby chair. Evey once in awhile, she would yawn, look at him, stretch and go back to sleep. V had one gloved hand resting casually against the chin of the mask. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there----just watching her sleep. As much as he tried, he could not stay away from the girl---- and the thoughts he was having, disturbed him greatly.

_**' You are a pervert.'**_' The feminine voice addressed him.

" Beg pardon?" He questioned softly.

_**' I said you are a pervert.**_' The voice repeated.

V sighed heavily, then shook his head.

_**' Yes, you are----or you would not be lusting after her.....'**_

V quickly rose from the chair, leaving the room, the door closing behind him.

_**'You can not deny the truth any longer.....'**_ Feminine laughter echoed through his mind.

" Shut up!" He spat venomously, his hands clenched into fists by his side.

_**' No! I told you she would ruin everything!'**_

" She has ruined nothing!" V shouted, " Your time grows nearer with every passing second!"

_**' Not if you include her in our plans.'**_

" She wants to help rid the country of Norsefire." V replied pacing the gallery floor, his hands behind his back. " Her convictions are as strong as mine."

_**' How does she fit into YOUR plans, V?' **_The voice continued to taunt him as he headed for the practice room.

" I have no future plans, madam." He answered, unlocking the door. " For I will be dead." Stepping into the hallway, he pulled the door close.

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Tiffany woke abruptly, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She had heard auguring-----or, at least thought she had. Throwing the covers back, she scooted to the edge of the bed, and stood up. Peering out into the hallway, she noticed the lights still in their night mode-----the only thing she could hear was the sound of metal hitting against metal in the distance. Slipping quietly into the corridor, she followed the sound through the gallery until she came to stand outside a large door. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned it, pushing the door open slightly. Through the crack, she could see V moving around the floor, with some type of a sword in his hand, its blade cutting through the air every few seconds. She stepped inside and hid in the shadows, allowing her to watch in silence as he practiced. Her eyes followed the straight line of his torso as he moved from right to left, delivering small, short hits on his opponent-----a suit of plate mail. The muscles beneath the sleeveless vest rippled under the silk shirt he wore, and Tiffany's breath caught in her throat as she watched his muscular thighs move beneath the doe-skin breeches when he thrust and targeted his opponent. Tiffany knew that V was strong, but the speed he moved at, made it hard to follow him-----he was almost a blur to her. For the finale, V slowed his movements, strolling around his' fat metal friend', the blade flickering the air around him. ' Tonight it is finished, Mondego. I will not give quarter.' He moved away a few feet, then turning swiftly, the sword lashed out, severing the helmet from the rest of the armor, V watching as it rolled to Tiffany's feet as she stepped out of the shadows, catching him quite unaware.

Embarrassed at being caught with his guard down, he reached up, smoothing the fringes of black hair that seemed to be out of place, then pulled the vest down to cover the waistband of his breeches. " I hope I didn't wake you." He hesitated briefly.

" No, I thought I heard you arguing with someone, and it frightened me------then I heard noises......" Tiffany answered as V's eyes traveled the entire length of her body without her knowledge.

" When I can't sleep at night, I often come to the armory to practice." He replied as he replaced the sword on a nearby wall unit holding several other types.

" Oh." Tiffany looked up at him sheepishly. " I thought someone had broken in...."

" No, I can assure you that the gallery is quite safe." V replied as he watched how her breasts moved the shirt up and down with every breath she took. He felt himself beginning to respond at the sight before him, and a feeling of disgust rocked his body. Maybe she was right-----maybe Tiffany was going to ruin all their plans------but god help him, he was attracted to her, and feelings he thought long dead, were being reborn at that very moment. Clearing his throat to help dispel the emotions he felt, he looked at her. " Since you are up, would you join me in a cup of tea?"

" Sure." Tiffany smiled back as she watched V head down the hallway. ' Damn! He has a nice arse too!' Quietly, she followed, wondering what that tight arse would feel like under her hands......

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Several months later, in the London night........

" Ok V, the last one is in place, how are you------finished up there yet?" Tiffany asked into the small headset hanging over her left ear.

" Just finishing up, meet me at the chosen coordinates." He spoke into the mouthpiece as he replaced the steel cover at the base of the BNN broadcast tower. Tonight would be the last of Norsefire's broadcasts of lies and propaganda. Standing up, he shook the dust from his cape, moving into the shadows, his steps hurried down the street toward where Tiffany waited. She had surprised him with her abilities. After a short few hours of instructing her in the making of the small bombs, she was creating them as well as he could----maybe even better. V chuckled as he climbed onto a nearby rooftop, and made his way across many of London's buildings. There, in the near distance, he could see her, outlined in the moon's soft glow. ' Damn!' he swore, ' I told her to stay in the shadows-------standing out like that, she's an open target!' He hurried his pace, jumping from one roof to the next, then quietly dropping from the steel sign above her to his feet." I thought I told you to stay to the shadows."

Tiffany jumped almost out of her skin as the low voice spoke behind her. Spinning around, she looked into Fawkes' face. " Damn V, you just scared the hell out of me!"

" Better me than Creedy's black baggers. " He replied taking her hand and heading for the far side of the building. " Shall we enjoy the fireworks, my love?" He looked at her, his head tilted just enough to bring his eyes in line with hers. He caught the look on her face as he suddenly realized what he had said. Reaching into the sleeve of the doublet, he pulled out a conductor's baton, and tapped it gently on the nearby pipe. " Can you hear it? It has already begun." Very lightly, he began to tap the wand in the air.

" I don't hear anything." Tiffany replied, looking around.

" At first, you have to listen very carefully......." V smiled under the mask as music finally began to swirl about the rooftop---- violins and horns that almost seem like a whisper, or a wind that steadily swells in strength. " Ahhh, yes.......there it is. Beautiful, is it not?" He turned to the parapet, his gestures becoming more grander. (1)

" I know that music!" Tiffany exclaimed as she moved closer to the ledge. " It's the 1812 Overture by Tchaikovsky!" She looked excitedly at V. " It's one of my favorite pieces----how did you know?"

The music mounted to a climax, and as cymbals crashed, V pointed his wand across the roof toward Jordan Tower, the only remaining broadcast tower in London---- under control by Norsefire. The tower exploded with such power that the entire building they stood upon shook all the way down to its foundation-----while V smiled under the mask and pointed to the newest Norsefire building as another crescendo reached it climax----blowing the structure into smithereens. He nodded in appreciation while mustering the music to it's finale as fireworks began lighting up London's skyline.

" Bloody hell......" Tiffany began.

All across the city, people opened windows, while others stepped out into the street to watch the dazzling shimmer of the fireworks until------a flashing blitz left a single, starry image floating in a smoke filled sky------- his signature-----the letter 'V'.

" It's beautiful....." Tiffany whispered as she watched it slowly fade away into the night.

" Thank you." He tilted his head toward her just as the city screamed with the panic sound of sirens. " I believe that is our cue." He offered his hand to Tiffany.

Smiling, she took it and followed him into the darkness.

--------------------------------------------------

After a quick route through London's underground tunnels, the door to the gallery slowly swung open, V and Tiffany walking into the main room. While V removed his hat, cloak and knife belt, Tiffany placed the tea kettle on the stove in the kitchen, then joined him by the jukebox.

" That was really awesome-----what we did tonight." She said as she looked at the CD listings.

" I was most impressed with your handiwork, Tiffany. You are due my thanks in such an undertaking." He answered, turning to face her.

Just once she wished she could see the man under that bloody damn mask. Not the idea. She wanted to look into his eyes and see what expressions they held, or see him smile a real smile, not one that was frozen in place. Feeling brave, Tiffany reached up and cupped the mask in her hands gently, then rising on tiptoes, placed a soft kiss on the cold lips. Behind the mask, V strained against the backside of the kiss----god, how badly he wanted to press his own ones against hers. Before he realized what he was doing, his arms reached out and pulled Tiffany to him, the mask's chin resting upon her head. His hands began to run up and down her back as he pressed her against the jukebox, her back resting upon the glass front. Her arms slowly went around his waist, her hands wrapping around his arse, pulling him to her. V lost all thought processes as he pressed his semi-erect shaft against her-----then suddenly, without reason, ripped himself from her arms as he realized what had just happened. Backing away, he looked at Tiffany, at the soft blush that covered her face, and the desire that burned in her eyes.

" I----I am so sorry...... I should never have ….." He dropped his head toward the floor, " let that happen." He turned on his heels and quickly left the room.

Tiffany quickly hurried after him, but it was no use----he had disappeared down one of the corridors and out of sight. Tiffany was falling in love with a terrorist--------God help her.

-----------------------------------------------------------

V slammed the door behind him, and began pacing the stone floor of his bedroom. What the hell had come over him!? He had almost gone to far------if it had continued, he wouldn't have been responsible for his actions. He had to get her out of there before it was to late-----and he would do whatever it took to see it happen. Tiffany could not stay any longer----even if he did love her. Love? He let out a deep breath, one he didn't know he had been holding. Sitting on the bed, he began to formulate a plan to make her hate him so badly, she would leave very soon.

-----------------------------------------

" Viola......" Tiffany began as she lay on the bed, playing with the nearly full grown cat, " what am I going to do? I love him........" She sighed heavily, " but I don't know how to make him understand."

Viola looked up at her young mistress and mewed, then rubbed her head against Tiffany's arm.

------------------------------------------------------

V stood under the spray of cold water, his hands on the tile of the shower stall., the water running across his scarred bald head, then down his torso. He could still feel her under his hands as she responded to the closeness of his body. The water was suppose to end his physical torment, not add to it. He looked down, lash-less eyelids fixated on the length of his erected member as his hand reached to grasp it. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the wall, and began masturbating.

-------------------------------------------------------

Tiffany sighed, once, twice-------finally a third time before she got off the bed, and headed down the hallway through the main gallery room, toward V's bedroom. She stopped outside, raising her " V?" She had come to tell him that what happened between them was not his fault------it was hers...... She wanted to explain to him her feelings, and hoped that it would bring them closer. She rapped louder the second time. " V?" She turned the knob, pushing the door open slightly.

She could hear the shower running in the bathroom as she stepped inside the candlelit room. She had not noticed the room that much before when she had occupied it for those several weeks, but now, as she looked around, it was very masculine. The bed she had lain in was large, taking up most of the room, and covered in a black and red comforter. Several tapestries hung on the walls, while paintings rested on easels in two of the corners. To the right of the bed sat a large armoire-----a mannequin standing next to it, one of V's capes and an extra hat adorned it. Hanging over the right shoulder, a knife belt was thrown. She heard the shower shut off. Moving to the bed, she sat down, facing the bathroom door----taking a deep breath, she waited as the door open, and stared as V walked out, with only a towel over his head as he dried his bare skull.

She was not ready for the sight she saw before her-----even though the room was lit by candle light only, it still glistened off the sleek scar-covered skin. Red angry welts, crisscrossed with white translucent ridges running the entire length of his body----only a few places had been fortunate enough to escape the brutality of the fire. The lower part of his abdomen and groin being one of those areas.

V heard the quick intake of breath before he even lowered the towel from his face. The silence in the room was like a being inside a tomb, and his body became numb.

" V......." Tiffany's voice was hoarse as she stared at him in the dim light. " I'm sorry......I'm so sorry........" She turned and ran from the hideous creature she had just seen, she couldn't bear to look at him------she cried as pity and anguish racked her body..........my God, what had happened to him for his body to be destroyed in such a way? Then she remembered the day she had seen his hands in the kitchen........she remembered what he had said about a fire-----and something about a place he had called Larkhill.

She slammed the door after her, locking it. Pulling a small satchel she had found from under the bed, she began stuffing as much of her clothes into it as she could. She had to get out of there!

She couldn't stay there any longer-----not after what she had just seen and the soul-shattering pity she felt for him. She picked up a small carry case and stuffed Viola into it. Throwing a pair of jeans on and a atop, she grabbed her jacket, satchel and Viola, and hurried from the room. She had started pounding on the walls of the second corridor when V found her.

" Tiffany....." His voice was soft as she looked over toward the main room where he stood in his normal attire. " Please......" He took a couple steps toward her, his hand outstretched.

Tiffany back away. " I can't stay here V.....I----I have to leave!" She cried terrified, staring at him. " Let me out of here!" She cried, tears cascading down her cheeks as she looked at him and remembered what she had just seen.

V sighed, " I'm afraid I can't......."

" What do you mean you can't------or is it you won't?!" She screamed at him.

" You told me that Alex would be looking for you......where would you go?" He asked moving another step toward her.

" To my friends.......I have friends all over London." She stared at him.

" The police are probably already looking for you." He paused, stopping a few feet from her, " What about Viola? She would not be able to fend for herself on the streets."

" I-----I would take care of her."

V chuckled softly. " You can't take care of yourself."

A distant look appeared in Tiffany's eyes, she had to make him let her go----she had to have time to think, to be by herself. She reached into her satchel, her fingers wrapping around a piece of leather wrapped steel. Looking up, the bag dropped revealing one of V's knives in her hand. ' Please forgive me, but I can't stay here.....and to get out, I must hurt the one I love.' Tiffany cried softly, " Stay away from me, you hideous monster!" She began backing up, a terrified look covered her face.

Something in V's mind snapped, and in seconds, he was on her, the knife, now in one hand as he held Tiffany against the wall by her throat with the other. " Yes, I am a monster......" he breathed roughly, " that is why I wear the mask........do you know what else I am, Tiffany?" He asked , the mask a few inches from her face, " I am also a cold blooded murderer."

-----------------------------------------

_**' I told you she was trouble....Throw her into that new detention center you built for Prothero....' **_The voice echoed among his thoughts as he tried to keep his anger in check.

He stared into her eyes as his grip on her neck began to ease. Releasing her, he backed away, the knife at his side. Slowly, he flipped the handle over, the hilt pointing toward her. " Take it." He thrust it toward her. Reaching out, she grabbed it, watching. V tore the doublet open, along with the Lycra undershirt, revealing his bared chest ." Put this monster out of it's misery------end it forever." He waited, his hands by his side. " Please." His voice was a hoarse plea.

Slowly, Tiffany raised the knife in her shaking hand to above her shoulder, holding it there as she looked at the man before her-------the man she had fallen in love with. The knife fell to the stone floor with a clunk, while everything she had planned dissolved into nothingness. " I can't.........I can't kill the only person who has ever given a damn about me." Tears ran down her face as she embraced V, her face against his chest. The scars not bothering her, she sank into his warmth

Hesitantly V's arms came up, embracing Tiffany gently as her hand came to lay on his chest." How can you care for something that looks like this?" He whispered softly as the mask lowered close to her ear. " How can you care for a beast?"

" You are not a beast, V." She answered looking up at Fawkes' face. " They're from the fire....."

His arms dropped away as he pulled back from her. " Yes." His answer was so soft, Tiffany wondered if he had answered at all.

" V," She reached out, her hand touching his arm, " they don't matter, please believe me. What does matter to me, " She paused reaching up to cup the mask in her hands, " is the man beneath-----the man I am falling in love with. The man who protects me, who shares time with me by reciting Shakespeare or teaching me things about the Renaissance period, or explaining to me what every painting hanging in the gallery means to him and this country, or the man that brought home a kitten because he thought I would be bored in this museum he lives in." She smiled lovingly into the mask.

" You don't know the man beneath." V rasped from behind the mask.

" I want to." Tiffany answered softly trying to see his true eyes. She heard a sharp intake of breath as she slid her arms around his waist, her head lying against hot, bare flesh.

V stroked her head gently as he pulled her to him, one hand stroking her head. " This man's story is not one of beauty-----it is one of pain and horror."

" I still want to hear it." Her lips laid butterfly kisses across his chest, as V's breathing grew quick. " I'm sorry."

" About what, beauty?"

" About walking in on you------all I really wanted to do was talk, " she paused, looking up, " I'm really sorry."

" It was my fault-----I didn't lock the door, which is my usual habit." He answered as he pushed her away slowly. " If you would like to join me in the media room shortly, " V stopped, taking a deep breath, " I will tell you as much as I remember about Larkhill."

" Larkhill." She repeated.

V nodded. " Where the man I had known before became the monster I am now."

Tiffany looked up at him taking his hand in hers. " I'll be there." She answered as she placed a kiss on his palm.

Abruptly, V pulled his hand away, walking toward his bedroom.

----------------------------------------------------

_**' You are going to destroy everything! Look at how much we have already accomplished!'**_ The voice in his head screamed angrily at him.

" Be silent!" V cried as he sat on the edge of the bed, his mask less face cradled in his hands.

_**' I will not be silent!**_' The voice answered him, _**' I will not let you throw your purpose------your calling away because of a little strumpet!'**_

" Tiffany cares for me." V answered meekly.

_**' Of course she does......she takes one look at you and runs......! **_Her laughter rattled through his head.

" Why are you doing this? Why can't I have one shred of happiness?" He asked, returning the mask to his face.

_**' Why do you need happiness when you have me?' **_Vengeance asked softly.

V sighed as he opened the door, and walked down the corridor toward the media room. What he was about to do would be the hardest thing he had ever done-------and he didn't quite know if he would handle it or not.


	5. Haunted

Chapter 5

' Haunted '

V walked slowly down the hallway toward the media room, his mind still debating with him about what he was about to do. It would bring to the surface many long repressed memories that had been buried for 20 years. He stopped before Tiffany, his back ramrod straight, his hands grasped at the wrists. " Where to begin....."

Tiffany looked up, smiling, then pat the space beside her on the couch. V sat, his legs spaced apart, his fingers intertwined with each other, his head lowered.

" You have to understand, Tiffany," V took a deep breath, " this is going to be extremely difficult for me to talk about." He looked at her, hoping she would change her mind.

" It's ok, V...." She took his hand in hers, " I don't care if it takes all day and all night------I'm not going anywhere."

His head bowed again as he looked at his gloved hands. " Mostly what I can remember is the injections....."

_**Flashback...........**_

Dr. Diana Stanton looked up from her desk as the door opened. " Yes?"

" I'm sorry to interrupt you, Dr. Stanton, " A young guard stepped inside her office, " but Commander Prothero would like to see you in his office as as soon as possible, ma'am."

" Tell him I'll be there in a few minutes." She smiled at the young man.

" Yes, ma'am." He backed out the door, closing it behind him.

Stanton dug into her desk retrieving three hanging folders from the drawer, laying them on the desk top. Standing, she pulled the white lab coat on, grabbed the folders and left the office.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Commander Lewis Prothero moved around his office, his mind on one thing and one thing only-------results. He was frustrated that out of the 73 detainees he had brought to Larkhill, only three remained alive after the sixth week of testing. " Come." Prothero called as a light tap appeared at the door.

" Commander." Dr. Stanton smiled pleasantly as she closed the door behind her.

" I hope you have some news for me Doctor." He said grimly looking at her.

Stanton sighed as she threw the folders on his desk. " Two and Four died this morning------that leaves Five----he's a fascinating case. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him. No cellular anomalies, nothing----but, " She paused, crossing her arms, walking around Prothero's desk, " there have been developing side effects."

Prothero eyed her, " How so?"

" To start with, a needle broke off in his arm this morning."

" What?" Prothero questioned, his eyes locking with hers.

" You heard me, Lewis." Stanton glared at him, " The damn thing broke off just below his skin----hell, it took ten of our strongest to subdue him long enough to fill him full of tranquilizers----and I had to put a tube in his stomach to do that!"

" Jesus bloody Christ!" Prothero swore.

" Other than that setback, everything is on track." Stanton answered. " He scares me Lewis----all he does is set in that room and stare through you. I think Batch 5 may have brought on some type of psychotic breakdown." She sat in a nearby chair, " You know what he asked me this morning-----his name. He couldn't remember his name, who he was, where he came from------"

" Can you imagine what we could do with a soldier like Five?" He looked up at Stanton, with a gleam in his eyes.

" You haven't heard a word I've said, have you Lewis?"

" No, it's you who haven't heard a word I've said." He sneered.

" Use Five as a soldier?" Stanton laughed at him, " He's insane! The only thing he's good for now is testing. Lilliman won't even go near him----says he's the devil. He even crosses himself when he walks by his room." She rose from the chair.

" Have you developed the vaccine for the virus yet?" Prothero asked.

" I should have something in a couple days. "

" Good, get started on it, Sutler is stomping at the bit, wants Norsefire to announce that their scientists have developed a cure, and that the St. Mary's virus will be under control in a matter of weeks." Prothero paused, looking at the window, " and since I'll be leaving next week......"

" That's right," Stanton interrupted, " the High Chancellor promoted you, didn't he--------' The Voice of London'-----or something like that......" Stanton turned on him, " Christ, Lewis—---there's nothing you won't do for Sutler, is there? "

Prothero's eyes darkened in anger. " Just remember Diana, it was Sutler who got the money for your and Oppenheimer's research." He glared at her, " I wouldn't forget that in the future."

Stanton backed down. " I'll get started on drawing more blood from Five...." She shook her head. " You can announce the vaccine anytime you want. You should be able to start mass production at Viodoxin next week."

" Thank you Doctor. Dismissed."

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Stanton walked the sterile white hallway quietly toward Five's cell. Stopping outside the door, her hand resting on the metal covering of the window, she hesitated, then pulled it open. " Five?" She called softly as her eyes caught a shape hidden barely by the shadows. She watched as the form sat on the floor, slowly rocking back and forth. " Five?" She peered into the semi-darkness, then jumped as a human face suddenly appeared in front of her, staring through the glass. Stanton drew in a quick breath as the scab lesioned face tilted first to the left, then to the right.

" Do I know you?" a low, baritone voice asked softly, as the face continued to stare.

Stanton looked into the dark eyes. " My name is Diana Stanton, I'm your doctor, Five. You know that."

" Who am I?" The brown eyes held no recognition within. " Can I go home now?" He whispered.

" You are home, Five." Stanton answered, watching his reaction, observing how he related to her. " I need to take more blood-----step away from the door." She nodded to the two armed guards as she inserted the key into the lock.

The man known as Five, backed away as Stanton entered.

" Oh my god, " she mumbled in shock looking at the 'thing' standing in front of her. Several large and pussing lesions covered the young man's face, as he stood perfectly still before her. Bruises and contusions covered almost every bit of flesh she could see, and dried blood mixed with feces was smeared across the back of his legs; fresh blood trickled from beneath the filthy orange garb he wore.

"Bloody hell!" She cried angrily as Five scurried back into the shadows, pressing his body as tightly as he could into the corner. " Get him out of there, and take him to the infirmary," She paused, " clean him up, then strap him down. I'll be there in a few minutes." She watched the reaction of Five when the guards approached him. Remembering what had happened earlier that morning, one guard slung his gun over his shoulder, then unsheathed the electric prodder at his side. Switching the device on, he stood ready.

The second guard reached out with his free hand while the first one stayed trained on the form in the corner. As soon as the hand made contact, Five reacted violently------his hand came up, catching the guard's arm and breaking it immediately as it was twisted behind the man's back while his other arm tighten against the guard's neck.

The guard next to Stanton panicked as screams ripped through the room, and lunged at Five, making contact with the device several times before he released the guard and fell to the floor, withering in pain.

" Call for backup, " Stanton ordered as she moved to him. Reaching down, she checked his pulse----it was erratic, but strong. The sound of booted feet at the doorway made her look up. " Take them to the infirmary." She watched as two guards lifted Five from the floor, dragging him from the room, the man with the broken arm following.

Five woke sometime later, strapped to the cold metal table. He didn't know how much longer he could put up with the charade he was playing. He put pressure on the leather straps and felt them give way. Every time one of the guards approached him, or when Rossiter touched him intimately, he wanted to rip their hearts out by his bare hands! So far, his plan was working-----Stanton thought him completely off his rocker and a threat to no one. In another time and place, maybe he could have liked her------but what she was doing to the people in this facility was beyond reason. These were human beings, not rats in a laboratory to be experimented upon. He had almost given up once----before Valerie's letter reached him through a rat hole in the wall-------and he had cried silently the day she died in the cell next to him-----cried over such a young life ripped away so abruptly. That day was the day Five decided that no one else would die in that man-made hell. Tomorrow, he would begin the second part of his plan-----to get the garden. Once that was accomplished, his access to fertilizer and other gardening chemicals would be assured, as would Valerie's rose garden.

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Carefully, the last fertilizer explosive was set into place. If his calculations were correct, he had planted enough fertilizer/chemical explosives to bring the entire medical wing down. He would never live through the massive explosion, but it would guarantee that no one else would go through what he and several other thousand had gone through. Finished, he lay down on the small cot, and closed his eyes.

November 5, 2001

Five sat quietly in the corner of his cell, rocking back and forth-----tonight was the night, his plan was complete, soon everyone who had been hurt or murdered here, would be avenged. The guards had just brought dinner----if you could call it that---- which meant most of the mess hall would be filled by now. Slowly, he rose from the floor and walked over to where the first explosive was placed. Reaching into a small hole he had dug in the bottom of the mattress, Five pulled out a small detonator he had made from scrap metal pieces in the garden's tool shed. Setting the small timer for 2 minutes, he placed the battery he had taken from one of the small gardening tools into the case, and flipped the switch. In two minutes, he would be free from the pain for the rest of his life. He walked over to the cell door, and waited............

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" I don't remember anything after that, except waking up in a snowbank, most of my flesh had been burnt from my body, and I was in terrible pain. Somehow, I survived, and my vendetta was born from that pain." V looked up at her, at the pale face that looked back at him.

" Oh my god........" The words were a bare whisper as she stared at him, her bottom lip trembling. " I'm so sorry for what they did to you....."

V rose from the couch, " I don't need or want your pity, Tiffany." He replied angrily, his hands clenching into fists.

She followed him into the gallery, grabbing his arm. " You'll never get pity or sympathy from me, V." He turned to face her. "What you endured , to me is very brave.....most would have given up, " She paused, removing her hand from his arm, " I admire you for your beliefs, and to have the balls to blow your cell up to stop Larkhill's experiments in their footsteps------that was....." Tiffany smiled as she looked into the eye slits. " …..heroic." She took his gloved hand in hers, raising it to her cheek.

V's head tilted as he watched her eyes close, leaning into his palm. His heart skipped a beat as the tenderness she showed toward him cascaded over his body violently as his breath caught in his throat. Slowly his other hand rose to the back of her head, his fingers wrapping in the long strands.

Tiffany sighed as she melted against his muscular chest, his arms slowly wrapping around her, holding her slender form to him. How long they stood like that, neither could guess, they only knew that it seemed right.

" I will be going out tonight." V finally broke the silence. " I shan't be long."

Tiffany mumbled a reply, her head laying on the black doublet, listening to the calming beat of his heart. " Do you want me to wait up?"

There was a long pause before he answered. " If that is what you wish to do." He whispered softly, breaking the embrace. Tiffany looked up at the mask, then took it gently into her hands. " Yes, it is what I wish." Standing on her tiptoes, she placed a soft kiss on cold porcelain lips. " Be careful." She turned, walking away from him, but catching one last glance over her shoulder.

V felt his composure collapse as he watched her slim form disappear. Walking over to the Wurlitzer, he leaned against it, his palms flat on the glass, his head bowed, his eyes staring at nothing. Quietly, a heavy sigh escaped from beneath the mask, and fingers pushed buttons while multi-colored lights brightened and dimmed within the machine. Slowly, he made his way toward the makeup room. Sitting in the chair, he picked up the brush and straighten a few out of place hairs, staring into the mirror, the haunting mask's reflection looking back as the brush was placed back on the table. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head------only for a moment. Standing, he smoothed the doublet, then ran a gloved hand over the jackets sleeves removing any lint. He placed the knives around his waist, buckling them in place, checking each and every one. Finally, he tossed the cape upon his shoulders, fastening it in place. Placing his hat on his head, he looked once again in the mirror, then turned quickly, leaving the gallery.


	6. Black Velvet

Chapter 6

' Black Velvet '

Tiffany stepped out of the shower, and threw a towel around her. Stopping by the bed, she quickly changed into a set of dark blue shorty pajamas, grabbed her hair brush and headed for the telly room. '2:16 am' the clock in the DVD player read. Curling up on the couch, she picked up the book she had left on the coffee table and opened it, picking up where she had left off reading earlier just as the gallery door began to slowly swing open. Sitting up quickly, Tiffany began to panic----what if someone had broken into the gallery?! Jumping up and moving into the room's shadows, she watched as Viola shot across the stone floor, screeching to a halt by the door as a black-clad figure entered laden with packages.

" Good evening, Miss Viola. Now, if you would kindly step away from the door.......com'on puss......" V spoke softly as the black cat weaved in and out between his legs. " I do not think your mistress would be very forgiving of you or I, if I dropped these....."

Tiffany laughed softly as she watched V try to make his way across the room. " Viola, come here.....kitty-kitty....." She cooed as the cat ran to her. She smiled at V as she scooped the ball of fur into her arms.

" Ah.....good evening, mademoiselle. My gratitude for your assistance." V replied as he sat some of the packages on the piano top, and continued into the kitchen with the others, followed by Tiffany and Viola.

" What'd you do-----buy the blooming store out?"

V grinned under the mask as he turned to her " Actually, Chancellor Sutler was agreeable enough to allow me the use of his private supply train." He chuckled as he began setting food supplies on the table------eggs, bacon, milk, fruit of several types, real butter.......

" You are a nut case, " Tiffany laughed softly, " but you already know that, don't you."

V stopped. " I am quite sure that I have, and will be called worse."

Tiffany smiled as she placed Viola on the chair, and helped unload all the treasures V had brought home. " I can finish up in here if you want to go shed your hat and cape------along with the knives, of course."

V tilted his head toward her as the first tinges of itching began on his arms. How bad, he wanted to scratch-----but in front of his guest------unacceptable, and right now, it was taking all his willpower not to rip the offensive clothing away. " Thank you, I believe I will go change." He bowed his head ashe hurriedly turned and left the kitchen.

Tiffany watched as he walked away, then sat down at the table. " Do you think he will ever realize that I love him, Viola?" She asked scratching the cat behind the ears. The cat rubbed back and forth against her in silent answer, and Tiffany let out a long sigh. " I guess I'm just going to have to show him." She headed down the hallway toward V's private bedroom.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

V stood beneath the running water, the coolness soothing his skin. Sometimes, if the night was muggy, the Lycra shirt he wore under the doublet would irritate the scarred flesh-----and tonight was one of those nights. He still hadn't forgotten the look Tiffany gave him as he almost ran from the kitchen---or how he had almost ripped everything from his body when he made it to his bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly trying to get the vision of Tiffany dressed in the blue outfit, holding Viola, her lips parted slightly, her eyes looking at him, piercing into his very soul. Closing his eyes, he let the water stream over his bald head and rush past the ruined face he would never claim.

" V?" A gentle whisper caught his ears as a soft pair of arms encircled his waist, warm flesh pressing into his. " I love you." Words that were spoken softly as Tiffany's head lay against his back.

V froze in place---------not knowing whether to throw her to the shower wall and flee, or face his deep rooted fear--------to see where he stood with her-----to see the look of disgust and revulsion in her eyes as she truly saw him for the monster he truly was.

" Did you hear me?" She asked softly as her fingers traced the patterns of red and white mottled skin across his shoulders, the muscles twitching every time she touched him.

" Yes." Came the answer, barely audible.

" Then look at me."

" No.....never....." The pain in his voice hurt her so badly, that tears began to well in the gold speckled eyes.

" Why?"

" I can't bare the thought of you seeing this monster again." He answered bitterly.

Tiffany moved to face him. " Look at me, please." She placed her hand under his chin and raised it. Although the bathroom was in semi-darkness---- lit only by candles, she could make out the outline of a strong chiseled face. Raising on tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his, her arms snaking around his neck. It was mere seconds before he embraced her, pulling her close. V felt soft, firm breasts press against his chest as he returned the kiss, but it was Tiffany who deepened it, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers. They were nothing like she had expected-----but soft and full. Her tongue traced them slowly as his hands slid up her back, stopping periodically to explore as a soft moan escaped his throat. Pulling away, she searched for the face she loved; her fingers gently tracing the ridged patterns across his cheeks, to his nose, then his chin. Smiling, her tongue began tracing patterns on his chest as her hands explored his arms and shoulders, memorizing each muscle as it trembled under her touch. A deep sigh escaped V's mouth as Tiffany's hands traced the patterns of scars that criss-crossed his stomach and abdomen, his legs nearly buckling as he felt her soft hands wrap around his pulsating shaft. He felt the pressure as she tightened around him, her hand caressing his length as sheslid gently up and down his hardness. " God....." He exhaled shakily as his back slammed into the cold wall, his palms against the tiles, hoping to find some type of anchor to hold onto. " Tiffany......" His voice was almost a moan. Smiling up at him as she dropped to her knees, wrapping him in the wet, hot softness of her mouth.

V's mind totally exploded into splintered fragments as his body was enveloped by something so powerful, he could not find words to express what was happening to him-------he was simply dying from the sensations coursing through his veins.

Tiffany's tongue traced a pattern around the swollen head, then down the underside to his sac, taking it gently in her free hand squeezing, drawing low moans from him, as his legs gave way and he slowly slid down to the floor, the water softly covering them both as Tiffany made love to him. It was only a matter of minutes before V felt a fire beginning in his groin, growing like a volcano about to erupt as she pleasured him, being rewarded with soft sounds escaping from his throat. She held him gently as he began to shake and spasm, his shaft growing as she sucked and tonged him, a low primeval growl came from his lips as he emptied into her throat again and again. Raising her face to the water, she rinsed the remains of his passion from her , then touched his face with her hands gently.

" Are you ok?" She asked, concerned, placing her head on his chest, her fingers intertwining with his.

He nodded slightly; eyes closed as he tried to regulate his breathing, his head leaning against the wall, eyes closed.

" I guess I should go so you can finish with your shower." She smiled as she began to get to her feet, but strong arms pulled her back down.

" No.....stay....." He rasped, reaching up and turning the water off. " I need you here.....with me." He pulled her into his embrace. " I am so afraid that this is a dream......" He paused, " a dream I will wake from and find it has all been part of a creation of my own making."

" V, I told you I love the person inside there." She poked his chest, then caressed the scars gently." I love the man beneath the idea." Her hand resting on his inner thigh, his hand playing with her hair. " Uh....V, do you know that you have red blotches all over your chest?" She could see some of them in the candlelight.

"An unfortunate result of the weather and the Lycra undershirt I wear." He answered as his eyes caught sight of the pure unblemished hand that lay on his scar-covered thigh, and disgust raced to the surface of his mind. Gently, he pushed her away, and rose to his feet. " Yes, I do believe that it is a good idea that I finish my toiletries. " He paused reaching for a towel, " I will meet you in the telly room." He handed her the other.

Rising from the floor, Tiffany wrapped it around her. She looked at him, then gently shook her head, leaving the bathroom.

V sighed, _**"**_ _**There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved."(1) **_He reached down and picked up Viola who was shaking the water from her paws. " If it were only possible for such a monster as I to find that one happiness." He disappeared into the bedroom.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Viola headbutted her mistress awake gently, accompanied by a subtle meow every couple of seconds. Tiffany's eyes opened slowly, peering into the face of the cat now sitting on her chest. " Breakfast time already?" She stroked Viola's head gently as the smell of cooking bacon drifted into the bedroom. Looking at Viola, she laughed softly. " You're a great clock, did you know that?" Throwing the covers back, she jumped from the bed, hurrying toward the kitchen. Slipping quietly into the shadows cast by the kitchen archway, she watched V prepare breakfast. He turned quickly, checking to make sure he was alone before his baritone voice slowly began singing along to Nat King Cole's ' _**Unforgettable**_' as the music filled the kitchen.

Tiffany's heart skipped a beat as she listened to his voice. Stepping from the shadows, she stood, mesmerized.

V turned as he flipped the eggs in the skillet, his head tilting as a large smile appeared beneath the mask. " Bonjour, mademoiselle." He greeted , "Avez-vous bien dormi la nuit dernière?'

Tiffany looked at him. " Huh?"

V's head tilted slightly to the right. " I simply asked if you slept well last night?"

" Wonderfully." Tiffany wrapped her arms around the black clad figure, feeling him tense at her touch. " What was that you were singing?" She asked, " It was beautiful."

V blushed under the mask as Tiffany took a seat at the table. " The name of the song is 'Unforgettable' and it was sung by a very talented man named Nat King Cole. It is one of my favorites." Quickly sliding the omelet onto a plate, he sat it before her. " Tiffany," He began, sitting the skillet back on the stove, " about last night....."

" What about it?" She interrupted him, taking a bite of egg.

" It should never have happened." He said removing the flowered apron and hanging it back on the wall next to the stove, then crossed his hands in front of himself, staring at her.

" What?" She looked up from the table, laying her fork down.

" It was a mistake on my part, I should have not lost control over the situation-----I'm sorry."

His head dropped, breaking eye contact with her.

" V, last night was not a mistake. I did it because I love you------" Tiffany stood up, her hand touching his arm, "and loving someone is never a mistake." Her fingers buried into the black silky wig, pulling the mask closer as she searched for the straps to loosen it, revealing the man beneath.

" No......" V's hands grasped hers gently, " I can not....."

" V, why can't you trust me enough to show me the real you? I touched your body with my lips and hands last night------why can't I see you in the light?" She reached for the mask again. " I've been here for six months, and you've become the most important thing in my life, and I know anything about

you.... if you have brothers or sisters.......a family of your own..... I don't even know what you really look like. "

" Tiffany, please. There is a face beneath this mask, but it's not me. I'm no more that face than I am the muscles beneath it or the bones beneath them......"

" I don't care........I told you, it doesn't matter to me what you look like from the fire------all I know is that I love the man beneath all this-----" She touched his chest gently, " Please, let me in......"

He took her face in his hands, and sighed slowly, " What lies beneath this, " he motioned to the porcelain image of Fawkes , " is a monster, not a man and I cannot bare the thought of thrusting this horror upon your innocence....."

Tiffany smiled up at him, " You foolish, silly man....." She touched the mask gently, her fingers tracing the lips slowly. " I will wait until you are ready........eternity, if I have to. I'll be here." She placed a soft kiss on the mask's lips, then left the room.

V watched as she walked away from him-------he loved to watch the way her hips swayed from side to side. Leaving out a deep sigh, he pondered if what was happening between he and Tiffany was a curse, or a bloody blessing in disguise.

--------------------------------------------------------

Tiffany had been hard at work since V had left earlier that evening-----everything had to be perfect-----for this night was a birthday celebration-----V's. She knew that he did not know his birth month or day, so she picked it----- April 13th----the day Guy Fawkes was born, and also today's date. Grabbing the potholders from the stove, she opened the oven door, and carefully removed the devil food's cake she had made. Sitting it on the stove top, she would let it cool for a number of hours before icing it with butter creme frosting. At least cooking, was one thing she was definitely good at. Reaching in again, she pulled the deep dish from the back of the oven-----thrusting a fork into the duck( she had found in the back of the huge walk-in freezer V had), she tested the meat of the rather large bird------she figured another couple hours and it should be done. She had been keeping tabs on V's habits at night, and she figured he usually returned to the gallery between 1 and 1:30 am. She slid the bird back into the oven, and headed once again for the lift that would take her to the rooftop. The vase she carried in her arms, was full of red roses she had found in one of the gallery rooms. It was to be the centerpiece of the table setting she had worked so hard on All she would have to do now was adjust the roof lights, and pray that V would be home on time, or everything she had accomplished would be a washout. Hurrying toward her room, she flung the wardrobe open and began going through clothes, until she found what she had been searching for. Pulling the short black cocktail dress out, she turned to the mirror V had moved into her room, and studied the reflection as she held the dress up to herself. Smiling, she laid it on the bed then reached in, pulling out a pair of black pumps, sitting them on the bed. Taking the long strands of her hair in her hands, she turned back to the mirror, and began piling it atop her head. Finally, after several minutes, she decided on an up swept bun with several pieces of hair curling away from the face. Smiling, she checked the reflection out in the mirror, then glanced at the clock on the nearby dresser. ' 11:32 pm'.

--------------------------------------------------

V crossed the roofs in perfect balance and speed as he hurried back toward the gallery. If his plans went accordingly tomorrow night, London would have a helluva light show! A large smile appeared on stretched lips behind the mask. Stopping for a moment to catch his breath, his right hand disappeared into one of the cape's inside pockets, pulling out a silver necklace that held a miniature copy of one of his knife attached to it. Holding it up in the moonlight, he could very easily make out the 'V' etched into the hand-guard of the replica. It had taken him weeks to design and etch the letter into the silver-----and tonight, he would give it to Tiffany as a sign of his affection for the young woman. He placed it pack into the pocket, and continued on his way.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Tiffany checked her reflection in the mirror one last time before taking the rose and note to V's bedroom. Laying it gently on his pillow, she headed for the lift to take her to the roof top. In the center of the roof , the table had been set elegantly with the good china, a bottle of wine waited in the chilled ice bucket, and candles sat in every open spot she could find, bathing the roof in soft light. Sighing, she walked over to the ledge and peer out over the London skylight and waited.

--------------------------------------------

V entered the final tunnel to the Shadow Gallery and punched in the security code that would allow his entrance into the vast treasure cavern he called home. He waited patiently as the door swung open, and was greeted immediately by Viola. Reaching down, he rubbed her head and the cat fell backwards showing her belly, anxiously awaiting her belly rub she had become accustomed to upon his arrival back at the gallery every night. " You spoiled rotten puss....." he chuckled as he stroked her a couple times. " Tiffany?" His head rose, searching the gallery, assuming Tiffany would show up any moment. His stomach tightened when she did not appear. " Tiffany?" The cape swirled around him as he searched the gallery for any movement. Maybe she was playing one of her games again. He headed for her room, pushing the door open, but there was no sign of her, and V's stomach tightened a little more. Hurrying down the hallway, he was at his bedroom in a matter of seconds. A sensation of fear began to coil up within him-----something he had not felt in years. He searched the bedroom, but found no movement-----as his hand reached for the lamp, he spotted the rose and note laying on the pillow. Picking it up, the perfume embedded itself into his nose under the mask---- he began to read.

_**V,**_

_**Please join me on the roof....**_

_**I love you.**_

_**Tiffany**_'

He looked at the note he held in his hand, his head tilting, as he tried to figure out what was going on. Silently, he walked to the lift, stepped on board, and ascended toward the roof. Coming to a shuttering stop, stepping onto the roof , his eyes immediately catching the table in his line of sight. " Tiffany?" He looked around.

" I'm here, V." Her soft, melodic voice rushed to him. Tiffany stepped from the shadows, as V inhaled sharply, his eyes locked on the figure. She stood before him, an angel draped in black-----a ethereal creature sent to destroy his very soul. Gathering his voice, he spoke slowly. " _**' If I could reach up and hold a star for every time that you've made me smile, the entire sky would be in the palm of my hand.'(2)**_ He reached out a gloved hand toward her, which she took. " If I may ask, " He paused as he touched her cheek gently, studying her. " what occasion are we celebrating?"

Tiffany smiled into the mask. " Your birthday, my love."

V paused a moment, his head tilting toward her as in thought. " I have no recollection of my birthday."

" I know that, " Tiffany smiled at him, " so I picked it for you."

" And if I may, what day have you chosen?" V asked as he walked her to the table.

" April 30th-----------Guy Fawkes' birthday." She answered, proud of herself. " So Happy Birthday."

V chuckled softly as he held the chair for Tiffany. " I am at a loss for words....."

" Good...." Tiffany smiled up at him, " Lose the cape, hat and knives; take a seat and dig in." Tiffany said as she fumbled for something next to her plate. Carefully, she straightened the silk scarf, and placed it around her eyes, tying it in place. " There.....now you can eat.....and I don't have to listen to excuses." A beautiful smile crossed her lips. " You'll have to carve the duck....."

" Duck?" V repeated as he carefully lifted the cover of the large plate that sat center of the table.

" I never knew you could cook."

" You never asked." Tiffany replied as she crossed her hands in front of her and waited for V to carve the roasted bird.

----------------------------------------

The moon had just come up when the evening meal was finished, and V had replaced the mask. Rising from his chair, he walked to Tiffany's and untied the scarf, letting it fall onto the table. " That was a wonderful dinner."

" I'm glad you liked it." Tiffany said softly as she reached down under the table and pulled up a large package wrapped in brightly colored paper. " This is for you-----Happy Birthday, V."

A lump rose in his throat as he took the package from her. " This ….is for me?"

" Yes....." She paused as he turned the package over in his hands. " It's your birthday present. I made it myself-----I hope you like it."

Slowly, he began unwrapping the precious article he held in his hands. Never before had he been given a gift-------that he could remember. And now, with this wonderful enchantress, he took a breath to steel himself against the emotions that were blooming deep within his chest. Carefully, almost as if he were afraid that tearing a single inch of the paper would shatter the dream he was having, V uncovered the wooden frame he held in his hands. Placing the paper on the table, he turned the wood over, and let go a deep breath when he saw what Tiffany had gifted him with. It was a hand drawn sketch of himself in mid-lunge at his old friend Montego. The drawing itself was done in exquisite tones of pastel colors, catching every angle of his attack. It was something that he would cherish for the rest of his life. " Tiffany......" he began, but his voice trailed off, after a moment, he continued, " I don't know what to say......"

" Just say you like it." She whispered as her arms curled around his neck, standing on tiptoes, her lips touched the small spot of uncovered flesh between the high collared coat and mask. Feeling a low moan rather than hearing it, she laid her head on his chest, feeling loved and protected for the first time in her short life.

" I have a gift for you, " V broke from the embrace, walking to where his cape lay across a roof pipe. He gathered the necklace up in his hand, and turned back to Tiffany, his fisted glove reaching out to her. " Wherever your life leads you Tiffany, " He paused letting the chain slip through his fingers, " always remember that I will not be far from you." He placed the necklace around her neck.

Tiffany fingered the small knife." It's beautiful V." She smiled up at him. " I love you so much."

V's eyes bore into hers, finally, he pushed the mask up just enough to reveal his lips before he captured hers, taking her into a tender embrace. Tiffany closed her eyes as she felt V take her into his arms and stride across the rooftop to the lift.

(1) George Sand

(2) Unknown


	7. Love, Unbound

Chapter 7

' Love, Unbound '

Tiffany held onto V tightly as he entered the lift pushing the gate closed with his boot. He looked down at her, his eyes gazing at her supple features partially hidden by the way she had burrowed into his chest. ' My god, she is but beautiful....' he thought, ' is it truly possible that she can bear to look upon a monster and yet swear she bears love for it?' The lift came to a shaky stop, and V pushed the door open as he carried Tiffany toward the main room of the gallery. He stopped by the jukebox, and gently lowered her to the stone floor, her body sliding down his, heat igniting sparks against flesh, causing a low moan to escape his lips as he embraced her, refusing to let her go.

" V?" Her voice was soft against his chest. She knew she should stop him now before things got too far out of hand, yet, when his gloved hands glided up and down her back caressing her, his arms enfolding her, and his Fawkes mask moved onto her neck, it felt so right, as if she should have been there all along. Warm heat swept across her body in cascading waves, making her knees begin to buckle. They slowly sank to their knees on the thick rug that covered a portion of the floor. Tiffany buried her fingers in the black silken wig, pulling the mask closer as she searched for the straps to loosen it and reveal the man beneath----she had to try again, her need of his face blocking all else out.

" No....." V's hands grasped her gently, " I can not...."

Tiffany looked up into the mask. " Why V? Why can't you trust me enough to show me the real you.....not the idea?"

He turned away from her." Because I can not bear the thought of thrusting this horror upon your innocence again." The answer was bitter, his voice about to break under the tension.

Tiffany's hand gently turned the mask to look at her. " I don't care, V." She paused, her finger running the length of the cold cheek. " I love you, not ….some stupid mask!" With a moan, he pulled her back into his arms. Reverently, he curved his hands around her breasts, caressing them, teasing the nipples slowly with his gloved thumbs, then moving lower, he traced the indention of her slender waist down to the soft gentle swell of her hips." You are so lovely...."

Tiffany's palms rested against V's chest, feeling his heart beat erratically, just as hers did. Quickly, he rose from her and to his feet. Within seconds, the gallery's lighting dropped to almost total darkness. " V? V, where are you?" Tiffany searched frantically in the dark for him.

" I am here." He whispered as she heard the sound of metal being laid on the piano near her. Suddenly, she felt warm lips caressing her face with gentle kisses as his bare hands pressed her to him.

" I love you so much...." Tiffany spoke softly as her lips sought his.

V's breath caught in his chest as he repeated over and over in his mind what she had just said. He had never loved or been loved before-------as far as he knew. He had never known a woman in this way, just as a woman had never known him. Everything he knew about human sexuality was from the many books he had read-----The Joy of Sex, Grey's Anatomy, Vatsyayana's Kamasutra---just to name a few. V knew the basics of lovemaking, and he knew that if Tiffany was a virgin, she would experience pain the first time, and he would be as gentle as possible. 'We're both virgins----and in love.....'. Just thinking of the enormity of this commitment, a lifetime together, made him tremble. He had already re-thought his plan, his vendetta's finality------he would live, but Norsefire, Creedy and Sutler would still meet their end. Reaching up, his hands lowered the black thin straps from her shoulders, then released the zipper holding the fabric to her body, letting it bunch around her hips. His lips made contact with Tiffany's bare skin as his hands laid her gently on the rug. Growing bold, she touched the fabric of his vest, slowly finding and unfastening each and every button, then pushed it from his arms.

Finding the waistband of the breeches he wore,, she pulled the soft linen shirt free, her hands sliding beneath, finding a hard-muscled chest criss-crossed with ridges of scar tissue. V stopped for a moment, holding his breath-----waiting for her reaction. She had not turned and ran the first time her soft hands had sought him out----would now be any different?

Tiffany's hands moved slowly against heated flesh, her fingers tracing uneven patterns, then slowly, she removed her hands, and began unbuttoning the shirt he wore-----she was desperate to know him---all of him, from the tiniest scar he wore as a badge of courage to the areas where no skin seemed to exist anymore. With that thought in her mind, she slid the shirt from his shoulders, hearing it hit the floor as he tossed it away from them. Then, without a seconds hesitation, she lifted the dress from her hips, tossing it across the room, leaving on the black silk that covered her most intimate spot. Looking into the shadowy darkness, V's thumbs hooked each side of her underwear and pulled it off her hips, and down thin, slender legs. Leaning over, he traced kissed from her brow to her eyelids, down to her lips and throat, then took her breasts, teasing and suckling them until they arched up into his embrace. Tiffany whimpered as they hardened and thrust into his mouth. When his hands reached lower to slide down, curving over her hip, and back up her belly, he felt her tense.

" Don't be afraid, my love, I will go slow—----I will not make you bear any unnecessary pain." V felt her relax as he held one warm palm against her flat belly, then ever so slowly, in soft gliding circles, moved lower to the soft curls of her juncture. The sensations of his hands and mouth were creating in her body rocked Tiffany to the core of her soul. Heat, shimmering and flashing coursed through her veins as it slowly descended from her breastbone down to her stomach, his hand following as if he knew her secret place had suddenly come to life. She could feel the tingling of pleasure as his rough fingertips gazed her nether lips and came away damp. He continued to whisper soft love words to her, then finally pulled his hand away.

" I can't wait any longer, Tiffany...." V sat up, yanking off his boots and breeches.

Every nerve in Tiffany's body was alive with desire for the man she watched undress in the semi-darkness. Quickly, he rolled down to her, taking her in his arms. As he pressed his lips to hers, she could feel the hard male part of him, hot and probing against her bare belly. His tongue teased her, leading on to answer. When their kisses became passionate and fierce, he took her hand and guided it once again slowly down his abdomen to touch the heat, the hardness of his member. Tiffany was still fascinated by the soft velvety texture as her hand closed around him. She had fought tooth and nail to maintain her virginity with Alex, and now, she was about to give it freely to a man who was more than twice her age, but also the man she dearly loved with all of her being. Patiently, V relaxed as she moved her hand up and down gently, stroking him until he was trembling and crying out her name.

" Now, my love, now...." He whispered against her mouth as he rolled her onto her back, positioning himself between her thighs, using his aching staff to part her gently, easing his entry into her. Sweat beaded what skin remained untouched from the fire as he fought back the urge to plunge into her softness. Instead, he moved with agonizing slowness as he gave her time to accommodate him until he encountered the barrier of her innocence. When he stopped and grew still, Tiffany could feel his whole body trembling.

" Is there something wrong?" She asked innocently, holding him.

" No my love, there is nothing." His breathing was raspy. " Tiffany, " He lowered his head closer to her. " Now is the time to change your mind if you have any doubts, for I cannot contain myself much longer, and once I make you mine, it will be forever."

Tiffany's hips undulated upwards in answer, and he gave in with an oath that sounded more like an endearment as he thrust downward. The sharp pain took her by surprise, but was soon replaced by the sweet heat that engulfed her.

V felt the hotness of her enveloping him as he began to move in deep, slow thrusts, stretching her, feeling an answering hunger that he could never imagine. She wrapped her legs around his waist as his penetration went deeper. Tiffany felt the low ache change as they moved, building to a pleasure so intense it robbed her of speech, and every thought. He struggled to hold on for her, but she was like a wild creature, so fierce, he felt himself toppling over the abyss, unable to stop the swift surge of heat in his last few strokes as his seed spilled deep within her.

Tiffany felt the stiffening of his muscles, the sudden swelling of his shaft as he drove into her with such unleashed fury, it ripped her name from his lips. Then wave after wave crashed over her, convulsing her flesh, touching her very soul as her true love's name echoed from wall to wall-----all she could do was hold on tightly as V collapsed on top of her, whispering her name. Rolling away, he gathered her in his arms, her hand resting upon his chest.

" I didn't hurt you, did I?" V asked softly as he placed his lips to her forehead.

" No, not really." She breathed slowly. " I'm just sore, that's all."

Silence filled the room.

" V?" Tiffany whispered as he pulled her closer..

" Yes?" He answered, his eyes closed, his breathing still heavy.

" What happens now?"

Her question caught him by surprise. " What do you mean?"

" What happens to us?"

He caught the expression that fluttered across her flushed face. His ability to be able to see in the dark always gave him an advantage. " What do you want to happen?" He asked, pulling her closer.

" What do you want to happen?" She redirected the question back to him.

V sighed deeply, " I don't know what the future may hold for me, " He paused, raising her chin so he could see into her eyes, " but I promise, I will do everything in my power not to leave you."

Suddenly, Tiffany felt the earth move under her feet as it all collapsed away.


	8. Catology 101

_**Chapter 8**_

_**' Catology 101 '**_

Tiffany woke to the succulent smells of breakfast cooking as it drifted through the bedroom. Opening her eyes she smiled, stretching languidly then pushed the covers from her. She was sore from their intense lovemaking from the night before, and moved slowly off the bed, wrapping V's black robe around her, then headed down the hallway to the kitchen. V was sitting a huge pile of pancakes and bacon in the middle of the table when he looked up, seeing her, a large smile stretched across soft lips under the mask.

" Good morning, my love." He tilted his head toward her. " I do hope you are hungry......" pausing for a moment then, letting out a long sigh," for I seem to have overdone it this morning." He chuckled softly.

" I'm starving from all that extra-circular activity last night." She grinned up at him as a soft blush rushed across her cheeks.

" Ah-----yes...." V lowered his head, and Tiffany knew that he too, was remembering.

" Are you ok?" Tiffany questioned as Viola appeared, rubbing against her legs, then rolling onto her back, letting out the most awful cry Tiffany had ever heard.

" I am fine, " V replied watching the now large black cat rolling on the floor. " But, I do believe that Miss Viola may have a problem."

" Huh? What's wrong with her?" Tiffany reached down and picked the cat up in her arms, who then politely squalled louder and jumped unceremoniously away, landing on the floor, her tail twitching.

V sighed, crossing his wrists. " I believe, she is in what is normally called 'heat'."

" What?" Tiffany asked, a puzzled look on her face.

V began to feel the heat rising to his face under the mask. How was he going to handle this?

Clearing his throat, he tilted his head toward the cat sitting on the floor, preening herself. " She needs to mate." His voice was low----so low that Tiffany barely heard him.

" You mean, she needs a boyfriend." Tiffany grinned up at V, letting him off the explanation hook.

V remained silent for a moment, praying to whatever creator that may exist, thanking him for not having to explain feline reproduction. " Yes."

" So I guess we'll have to find her one, huh?" Tiffany reached down and rubbed Viola's head.

_**' Good lord, no! One is quite sufficient here in the gallery!' **_He wanted to exclaim. " I don't think that would be a wise idea." He replied calmly.

" Why not?" Tiffany asked, " I'd love to have some kittens wondering around----wouldn't you?"

" No." Came the blunt reply.

" But, V....."

He stared at her, his head tilting to the right, his stance solid-----Tiffany knew that this conversation was finished. " At this time, the answer is no. I'm sorry." He walked away.

" Oh, yeah?" Tiffany muttered beneath her breath, " I don't need you to find her a boyfriend. I know those street above just as well as you do, V. I'll find her one without your help." Picking Viola up, Tiffany walked back to her room to plan her escape.

-----------------------------------

Chief Inspector Eric Finch stared at the photographs laid across his desktop, and sighed heavily. The photos he was staring at were ones of BNN'S Jordan Tower, Norsefire's new communications building, and finally, the Old Bailey. All three buildings lay in ruins----the handiwork of the terrorist known as Codename V.

" Morning, Inspector." Finch's partner, Lieutenant Dominic Stone smiled as he hung his jacket on the coat rack standing by the door. " Anything new on Jordan Tower?" He headed for the coffee pot, cup in hand.

" Nothing more than we already know----that he bloody well walked off that elevator and into the control room, a vest of explosives wrapped around his chest." Finch replied pulling his pipe from his coat pocket and lighting up.

" So much for the new security protocols of Norsefire's." Stone grinned taking a seat behind his desk.

Finch looked over at the young man. " I'd love to hear Creedy explain this one to the Chancellor." He replied, a slight smile spreading across his lips. " Anything on the identity of our masked friend?"

" Nothing yet......the pictures taken from the outside surveillance cameras are to grainy.....and besides," Stone paused, " the mask makes it almost impossible for retinal identification."

Finch nodded his head.

-------------------------------

Tiffany was curled up on the sofa in the media room, lost in the words of Milton's _**' Paradise Lost' **_when V stopped at the archway his head tilting as he stood in silence, watching her. A low sigh escaped from behind the mask as he clasped his wrists at his waist. He still could not believe that this beautiful young woman had confessed that she loved him. The first time had been several days ago; the most recent, last night as he slowly and gently made love to her. She had seen a good deal of his scaring several times, and had not turned away . Maybe Madam Fate had taken pity upon him, and was allowing this glimpse into what he now wanted so badly----even if it was only going to be for a brief moment, for his vendetta came before all else, and the end was drawing nearer with every passing day. Clearing his throat, announcing his presence, he entered the room.

" V, I didn't hear you come in." Tiffany looked up smiling, closing the book and laying it on the coffee table.

"You looked very engrossed in your reading, I did not wish to disturb you." He replied, the mask tilting at her.

" Just something to pass the time until you came home." She sighed softly, sitting up on the couch.

" You chose a very good book to keep you company." V reached over picking it up, " The central story line is built around a few paragraphs in the beginning of Genesis—the story of Adam and Eve. The epic also uses elements from many other parts of the Bible, particularly involving Satan's role. Focusing his poem on the events surrounding the fall of Adam and Eve, Milton intended, in his words, to "justify the ways of God to men," by tracing the cause and result for all involved." (1)

" In other words, it shows how bad we screwed up." Tiffany giggled as she pulled V down beside her, crawling onto his lap, her fingers reaching behind the mask for the leather straps that held it in place.

Her hands were stopped by his as he took them gently in his leather gloves. " Tiffany, please...."

" All right, " she smiled at him, her hands on his shoulders, " you can't blame a girl for trying though." Looking up into the dark slits, her face became calm and serene." I love you...." She whispered softly against the mask's cold lips.

'_**Whence thou return'st, and whither wenst, I know;**_

_**For God is also in sleep; and dreams advise,**_

_**Which he hath sent propitious, some great good**_

_**Presaging, since, with sorrow and hearts distress,**_

_**Wearied I feel asleep; but now lead on;**_

_**In me is no delay; without thee here to stay**_

_**Is to go hence unwilling; thou to me. **_

_**Art all things under heaven, all places thou**_, (2) V spoke softly, his eyes never leaving hers. " You have made a cold heart warm once again, and no mere thanks will ever be enough...." He pushed the mask up enough for his lips to covers hers.

Tiffany looked up as he once again lowered the mask over scared tissue. " All I did was to remind you that you were human after all." She smiled as she tucked herself into his warm embrace as Viola came squalling around the corner.

V stared at the cat. " If she does not cease and desist with that noise, I shall lock her away."

" V!" Tiffany snapped at him, " She needs a boyfriend, that's all."

" Then I shall open the gallery door and let her find one." He answered rising from the couch.

" No!" Tiffany called after him, bolting from the couch and gathering Viola up in her arms " I'll put her in my old room."

" Very well. And, in the mean time, I shall study the surgical process of spaying the feline after this episode is over." V replied, moving into his usual stance.

" Stay right there----don't go anywhere, I'll be right back." Tiffany moved down the hallway quickly toward her old room. This was where Viola stayed most of the time anyhow, her litter box, cat bed (compliments of V, of course) toys and food and water were all there. Placing her down on the floor, closing the door quietly behind her. She hurried back into the gallery's main room, finding V by the jukebox.

" Would you like to dance?" He looked up, his black hair moving across the mask's line of vision.

" I'd love too." Tiffany moved into his arms as the first strains of ' My Heart Will Go On' sung by Celine Dion slowly filled the chamber. She looked up at the mask. " Is that we are V, two lost souls adrift on a sea of uncertainty?" Such deep sadness filled her eyes that he stopped, his head lowering as he took a step away. Tiffany stood, not moving, watching as he reached behind the wig, loosening the leather straps that held Fawkes' persona in place. Removing the mask, he lowered it, the side of the black wig obscuring his face from her gaze. Gently, she placed a hand beneath his chin and raised it, her eyes gazing fully upon his ruined face. Slowly, a smile broke across her lips as her hands touched his face, her fingers tracing every ridge and knot gently. " I love you." She whispered to him as a single tear cascaded down her cheek, and her lips caught his in a kiss.

A moan escaped V, and Tiffany didn't know if it was from her admission of love or from the fact that he had finally placed his trust in her fully. All she knew was that the tightness of his embrace was wonderful,----something she never wanted to be without in her life. Closing her eyes, she sighed softly as his lips left small butterfly kisses on her neck, his hands moving up and down her back. In one quick movement, she found herself in his arms, his feet moving down the hallway toward his bedroom.

" Are you kidnapping me once again?" She whispered playfully as a shrill whistle went off throughout the gallery. Hurriedly, V lowered her to the stone floor. "What's wrong?" Fear shone in Tiffany's eyes as she looked up at him.

V turned and hurried back into the main chamber, Tiffany following close behind. Quickly retrieving the mask he moved into the makeup room and retrieved his knife belt. Returning to her side, he took her by the arms. " Someone has tripped the security alarm for the gallery. You will be safe here. I will return as quickly as I can." He was gone from her sight in a matter of seconds.

" V!" Tiffany called after him, " Don't leave me..... alone......" She hurried toward her bedroom to collect Viola and a few of her things......She was not staying here by herself if there was a chance some of Creedy's black baggers had discovered the entrance to the Shadow Gallery----she didn't care what he told her,she would take her chances on the street. Hurriedly, she stuffed clothes and a few other things into a small bag, and grabbed Viola in her arms, heading toward the passage she had seen V use several times before.

--------------------------------

V walked silently down the main tunnel leading from the Shadow Gallery, a knife held in each hand. Cautiously, he made his way toward the trip alarm that he had installed further toward the tunnel entrance. Off in the distance, he heard slight movement, as if someone was digging into the soil. Rounding the corner, he stopped abruptly as he watched a family of rats scatter in front of him. Leaving out a deep breath, he re-sheathed the knives into his belt, and walked toward the switch. He peered at the wires----ah, here it was! One of the little rodents had bitten through a small wire, tripping the security system. He reached down, reconnecting the wire and resetting the code. He would have to find a new location for the trip wire, or he would be making daily visits to fix the security system. Sighing, he dusted his gloves off, and started for the gallery.

-------------------------------------------

Tiffany moved slowly through the dimly lit tunnel, Viola clutched tightly in her arms. So far, so good------she had not seen any movement around her, and continued in the direction she had followed V down without his knowledge. It was easy to stay behind him in the shadows if he had his mind on other things at that moment, which seemed to be the case lately. That particular night, she had tracked him all the way to the opening that lead out into the streets some distance from the Shadow Gallery. She estimated that she would reach that point in a matter of minutes, and she could once again roam the streets as she had once before she met Alex-------Alex, that son-of-a-bitch! The name still brought a burning sensation in the pit of her stomach-----but there was also another name that brought deep emotions rushing into her mind----V. Would he understand the reason she left? Would he search for her........or, the heaviest one that weighed on her, would he forgive her for abandoning him? All she could do was hope. Sticking her head around the tunnel entrance to see if anyone was nearby, and satisfied that she was alone, Tiffany disappeared into the night.

-------------------------------------------------

V returned to the gallery, resetting the alarm and started through the chamber. " Tiffany?" He called as he laid the knife belt on top of the piano. " Tiffany....." He headed down the hallway toward his bedroom. Smiling under the mask, he pictured her curled up under the covers, the comforter pulled snugly over her head, waiting for him to return----to finish what he had started------" Tiffany, you can come out now, " He paused, rapping gently on the door with his knuckles, " it was a bare wire that was the problem." Slowly, he pushed the door open, expecting to find her. The smile disappeared from his face when he saw the empty bed. Turning, he hurried from the room and began to check the rest of the gallery.

------------------------------------------------

Lewis Prothero was dead. " Bloody damn bastard!" Finch swore under his breath as he threw papers across his desk and onto the floor. It seemed that V had added another victim to his list. Finch picked up the photo and stared at it, the rose beside Prothero standing out like a sore thumb. The ' Voice of London's ' body would be at the coroner's office by now-------grabbing his coat from the nearby rack, he pulled it on-----he was going to pay Delia Surridge a visit.

Dominic Stone almost ran into him as he bust through the office doorway. " Where you off to, Chief?"

" To the coroner's office----I want to talk to Delia ." Finch disappeared out the door leaving a bewildered Stone staring after him.

-----------------------------

Tiffany hurried down the alleyway glancing behind her------it was after Norsefire curfew, and she had to get to one of the homeless camps underground before the Fingermen caught her. It was at this moment that Viola decided she had been carried to long and clawed her way to freedom, jumping from Tiffany's arms and running into the darkness. " Viola!" She cried into the night, " Here Kitty, kitty!" Shifting the bag on her shoulder, she hurried into the darkness after the cat.

------------------------------------------

V slowed his steps as he emerged from the tunnel, his eyes checking for signs of movement in any direction. Sensing nothing, he turned and disappeared into the night. '_**Why did she leave the safety of the gallery?'**_ The question pounded in his head as he hurried through the alleyway in search of the only thing that meant more than life itself to him. From somewhere up ahead, the laughter of voices filled the foggy, wet London night and V pushed himself close to a nearby wall, waiting. Three Fingermen were walking slowly toward him, their laughter could be heard echoing through the alleyway, and V's hand tightened around the pommel of one of his beauties, pulling it slightly from the sheath, waiting. It was at that moment that he heard a voice he recognized so well calling from the distance loud enough to make the heads of the fingermen turn toward the darkness.

" Seems we may have a lost soul out on the streets......" The first fingerman, a tall skinny man with greasy hair looked at his buddies. " Com'on, let's go find our little lost girl." Laughter ripped from his mouth as a small crossed his lips, showing yellowed twisted teeth that lay underneath.

" Yeah, I do seem to have a little itch that could use a good scratch...." He smiled as he grabbed himself and laughed.

" Righto, off we go then." The third led the way into the darkness, V following from the shadows, his hand on the knife, waiting.

----------------------------------------------

Tiffany leaned up against the damp wall, and took a deep breath, " Damn it, Viola! Where the hell are you?" She looked around, her ears straining for any sound of the cat in the darkness. Sighing, she moved deeper into the alley.

" Well, lookie 'ere------seems we have ourselves a curfew breaker."

A voice spoke from behind her, turning quickly, she saw three figures standing behind her.

Tiffany thought quickly. " I lost my cat----have you seen her? She's black with green eyes, and she....."

All three of the men looked at each other, then the tall one smiled slyly. " Nope, haven't seen a cat, but we found a nice pussy." They laughed in unison, walking toward her.

" I know I'm out after curfew, but like I said, my cat got out, and I'm looking for her....." Tiffany took a step back every time they came closer. '_** Oh god-----why did I ever leave the gallery------V, I need you! God help me.....'**_ The first male hand grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, pushing her against the wall. Another man moved beside her, his eyes moving hungrily up and down her body.

The tall one, reached for his belt, and slowly unloosened it, his pant's zipper breaking the eerie silence.

" _**The multiplying villainies of nature do swarm upon him----from the western isles—Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; And fortune on his damned quarrel smiling, Show'd like a rebel's whore....'(3) **_A low, ominous voice spoke from the shadows and a figure emerged slowly.

One of the fingermen reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a wallet flipping it open. " Bugger off, pal. We're Fingermen, " He looked over at his friends, " and, this doesn't concern you." He flashed the red encrusted double cross at the figure.

" Oh, but it does involve me when there is a lady present." The figure pushed the cloak aside revealing wicked two foot knives held in each gloved hand.

" V!" Tiffany screamed as a hand clamped over her mouth.

A gun was drawn, and before the hammer clicked into place, V was upon them, taking the closest man out before the other two had even drawn their weapons. He looked up from the body on the wet pavement directly at the remaining two. " Would you like to continue this little practice session, or would you gentlemen be kind enough to relate a message to your superior, Mr. Creedy." V paused , the knife pointing directly at the chest closest to him. The men nodded, both faces frozen in terror. " I thought you might agree to my terms," V grinned beneath the mask. " Tell Mr. Creedy that I will continue to take out everyone connected with the Norsefire government until I have Chancellor Adam Sutler." He slid the knife back into its sheath. " Now, off with you."

V and Tiffany watched as they hurriedly disappeared down the alleyway and into the darkness.

" Are you alright?" He asked softly, turning to her.

" Now that you're here." Tiffany threw herself into his arms, " I was so scared, V." She began crying softly into his cloak as he held her.

" Why did you leave the Gallery?" He asked quietly, pushing her away so he could look into her eyes.

" I was so terrified at the thought that someone had found the Shadow Gallery-----I couldn't stay there without you." Tiffany lowered her eyes from the mask, " I grabbed Viola and left....I know you told me, " She raised her eyes to the dark slits, " not to go, but I couldn't stay......and now, Viola's gone....." Tiffany wrapped her arms around herself, turning from V. " I really screwed up this time. Maybe I am better off on the streets....."

V grabbed her roughly by the arms and spun her around. " Do not ever say that, " He growled deeply, " No one is better off on the streets, especially under Norsefire's rule. You could have been killed tonight."

" I know....I'm so sorry...." Tears began running down her face as she looked at him.

" I will escort you back to the Gallery, " V took her by the arm with one hand, her bag in the other.

" What about Viola, V...." She stopped, " I can't leave her out here-----she'll die." The gold flaked eyes bore into his.

" I will find Miss Viola-----first, I must get you back to the safety of the gallery." He replied as he took her by the hand, leading the way into the darkness, escorting his beloved back to their home.

_**Paradise Lost----a brief overview**_

_**John Milton's Paradise Lost**_

_**Shakespeare's Macbeth**_


	9. A Shot in the Dark

AN: I have taken the liberty of using some of the script dialogue in this chapter to help draw everything together------please be kind.

Chapter 9

' Shot in the Dark'

V led Tiffany slowly through the night as they made their way toward the tunnel entrance of the abandoned Victoria line. Pausing briefly by the boarded up entrance V released a tripwire, the doorway opening slowly; taking her hand, he pulled her through gently.

" I never knew this entrance was here." Tiffany looked around as the doorway closed behind them.

" There are many." V replied as he once again began down the tunnel, stopping momentarily by an innocent looking pile of rubble thrown against a nearby wall. Moving the largest slab of concrete aside without as much as a flinch, he entered a security code into a small camouflaged panel.

Tiffany watched. " How many of these do you have?"

" Enough." His only answer as he stepped back watching a portion of the stone wall open.

" You're not going to tell me are you?"

V glanced over at her. " No."

Tiffany sighed as he disappeared through the opening to light a small lantern resting on a shelf.

" This way." V started down the tunnel, Tiffany following closely.

The next few feet was walked in silence as V brooded, and Tiffany wondered how she would be able to regain his trust. It was no little thing she had done-----she had bluntly disobeyed him, and now she would pay the price for her foolishness. She followed him down the tunnel that opened into the main room of the Shadow Gallery, and paused before entering------hopefully long enough to let some of his temper dissolve.

* * *

He stood, his back to her as he sat her satchel on the piano top. Tiffany watched the black cape move as his shoulders and head dropped, a sigh pushing through the slit of the mask. V turned to face her, his hands by his side. " If you promise to remain here, I shall try to locate your feline companion."

" I promise." Tiffany said softly taking one of his hands in hers. Looking up into the dark slits, she hoped he could see how sincere she was. " I am truly sorry......" V pulled his hand from her and gently caressed her cheek with leather covered fingers.

" You are safe now, " He paused, " that is all that matters."

" I was just so frightened....."

" Sh-h-h-h......" His soft voice caressed her fear, " I would never let anything hurt you...." The mask tilted gently as he searched her eyes.

" I know...." Her arms snaked around his waist as she laid her head on his chest, his heart beating erratically.

' I shan't be gone long, " V began as he pushed her away gently.

" Please, be careful." Tiffany's hand touched the mask's cheek, and V's eyes closed against the pressure from her hand.

" I will." He replied before disappearing through the doorway and into the darkened tunnel.

* * *

Finch's car came to a stand still in front of the coroner's building. Looking up, he saw Delia's office dimly lit in a soft glow. Taking a deep breath, he slammed his hands on the steering wheel. ' Damn him!' He swore under his breath, 'Bloody hell.' His anger subsiding, Finch tried to reason with himself. There was more to V than met the eye. He was quite sure that something else was driving the man onward-----something other than just Sutler and the rest of Norsefire-----all he had to do was figure out what it was. And now, of all things another person seemed to be involved. The pictures from the surveillance camera was grainy, but the figure of a young woman could plainly be seen. He had sent the video off to Scotland Yard to be enhanced, hoping that the Fate computer system could pull an ID. Stepping from the car, Finch pulled his London Fog coat around him, walking toward the building.

* * *

Dr. Delia Surridge slowly pulled the bloody gloves from her hand, and dropped them into a nearby garbage receptacle. Stretching to get the kinks from her back, she took a deep breath and pulled the sheet over Lewis Prothero's face.

" Delia, do you have a minute?" She turned to find Eric Finch standing in the doorway.

" Of course, Chief Inspector." She smiled at him, " What can I do for you?"

" I know that it's too early for your profile, but do you have any initial impressions?" Finch asked as he stood by the gurney that held Prothero's body.

" Well....." She began, pulling the sheet down and pointing to a jagged puncture wound at the base of the man's sternum. " Whoever did this is incredibly powerful-----the sternum was split from the base up to the manubrium like a piece of dry wood," She paused momentarily, " and also very resourceful. On that table behind you is a listing of all the chemicals found in Prothero's blood stream."

Finch reached over and picked up the stack of paperwork. " Bloody hell....."

" There were hundreds of chemicals in him-----everything from motor oil to estrogen. "

Finch leafed through the pages. " Maybe Fate can make some sense out of it-----I bloody well can't."

" Sutler finally authorized an up link for you? " She paused covering the body back up. " The Chancellor must be getting nervous."

Finch looked at her. " Government directed terrorism never sews healthy ideas into the public mind." He paused reaching into the inside jacket pocket handing the evidence bag to her. " Can you tell me anything about this?"

Delia took the bag from Finch slowly, her eyes locked on the rose.

" A Violet Carson." Finch said.

" I know." She paused, " I thought these had died out long ago."

" So had I. I thought a botanist could shed some light on it. Delia?" Finch looked at her.

Surridge forced herself to look away from the rose, and to Finch. " Yes-----yes, of course."

" I'll check back tomorrow, then."

Surridge watched as he walked away, a cold numbness covering her body.

* * *

Straightening his tie in the mirror, Jacob, His Grace's personal valet gave himself a quick once over. It seemed that Dennis, His Grace's regular valet had come down with a severe case of the flu and would not be able to perform his duties today therefore, Jacob had been sent over from the Diocese as a temporary replacement. Giving a deep sigh, he hurriedly left Dennis' chambers and headed for Bishop Lilliman's private apartment.

" Ah, there they go. My happy and contented flock. Spiritually refreshed and ready to face the world again." Lilliman turned from the window. " Did you like the sermon today, Dennis?" The man standing before him was not Dennis.

" I am sorry, your Grace, my name is Jacob. I have been sent from the Diocese as a temporary replacement." Jacob looked at the tall, slender man before him." They did not notify you?"

Lilliman shook his head.

" My apologies your Grace. Dennis is very ill, and will not be able to attend you for the next several days." Jacob apologized.

" Oh my. I do hope it's nothing serious?" Lilliman replied as he walked toward his bed.

" No, your Grace-----just a touch of the flu."

" Ah." Lilliman paused, then turned to Jacob. " Has everything been arranged?"

" Yes, your Grace. According to your Interlink itinerary, you should arrive in Perth in time for the afternoon mass." Jacob replied.

" You are a noble example for all who labor in the name of our Lord....."

" Your Grace?"

" It wasn't labor I was speaking of, Jacob...." Lilliman replied as a gleam appeared in his eyes.

" I'm sorry, your Grace, I miss understood...."

" Quite alright my boy. Tell me, has she arrived yet?"

" There was a mix up at the agency, your Grace. Your regular girl was not available today, and they did not have a substitute." Jacob answered lowering his head.

" Bloody hell!" Lilliman lashed out as a lint brush went flying across the room.

" Besides, you won't be needing one today Bishop." Jacob's voice changed to a low, ominous tone as Lilliman swung around to find his valet holding a knife in each hand.

" Who are you!?" Lilliman strangled voice asked as he began backing away.

" And thus, I clothe my naked villainy with old odd ends stolen forth from holy writ and seem a saint, when most I play the devil." V looked at him, hate burning in his eyes----he could almost feel the heat radiating through the latex mask he wore. " I remember when you use to walk through the medical wing, falsely blessing us with your hand---ignoring our pain and suffering for your own ungodly rewards. I've come to take my pound of flesh, your Grace."

" Please......have mercy....." Lilliman begged as he was backed up against the dressing table.

" Not today, Bishop, not today......."

* * *

Dr. Diana Stanton, aka Delia Surridge stared at the rose she held in the plastic bag. Dear God! She had seen roses like this only once before------at Larkhill. Was it possible----no, there was no way that Five could have survived that fire. The last time she had seen him, he had been standing amidst the flames, his arms reaching into the sky-----a primeval scream ripping from his lungs. All she remembered was the burned face that stared at her for a few long seconds-----a face with no shape nor eyes. A face that still haunted her in horrible nightmares to this day. Taking the rose gently from the plastic bag, she lifted it to her nose and breathed in the dark, sweet intoxicating smell. Sweet bloody Jesus! It was him-----the man from room five----she would never forget the smell of the roses he grew in the garden! He was the one who was picking all of the Larkhill personnel off one by one------Surridge froze, dropping the rose to the floor as utter terror crossed her face. He would be coming after her soon----he would be coming to kill her too!

* * *

V waited silently as the gallery door slowly swung open. Entering, he stepped into the main room and scanned the area for any sounds. _**' Tiffany must be in bed.' **_He thought to himself as he walked slowly across the floor toward the makeup room. Standing in front of the table, he removed the jacket he had worn as part of the masquerade of Jacob, and placed it into the armoire. Taking a seat before the mirror, he began to carefully remove the mask, the adhesive remover sliding between his scared flesh and the latex smoothly. Within minutes, his second face rested comfortably upon the wig stand. Leaving out a deep breath, V left the room and walked toward the extra loo to shower and replace the dirtied clothing he wore.

* * *

Sometime later, the shifting of the mattress woke Tiffany abruptly and she reached across the bed, searching. Her hand landed on soft silk, and she scooted closer to the heat radiating from the body laying close to her. " What time is it?" She mumbled sleepily as her hand slid under the pajama top, resting against a rock hard abdomen.

" Early morning." V whispered against her hair as he pulled Tiffany close, her head on his shoulder.

" Oh." She replied, eyes closing as she snuggled against him.

" Tiffany?" V spoke softly, " May I ask something of you?"

Tiffany sat up in bed, looking into the darkness where she knew V's face would be on the pillow. " Of course. Anything."

" I require your assistance for the final part of my plan."

" What can I do?"

" I will explain everything tomorrow------now, is the time for sleep." He pulled her back down onto his shoulder.

" Alright." Tiffany replied as she drifted off to sleep.

V laid awake for sometime after Tiffany's breathing slowed announcing she was in a deep slumber. The last part of his revenge would be falling into place very shortly. Later tonight, he would pay Delia Surridge a visit, then the last part of the puzzle would fall into place-----a visit to Peter Creedy, and an offer he would not refuse------the terrorists's life for that of Sutler's. V breathed deeply as he thought about the outcome of his vendetta. Norsefire would be finished, England would once again be a free country, and if everything worked out the way he had it planned, he and Tiffany would see the end of all the tyranny inflicted by Sutler together.

" _**Thinking of her again, are you?" **_Vengeance's soft voice spoke in his mind. _**" We are so close to our end......."**_

" Nothing has changed....." V whispered to himself.

Anger began to build within him as the voice continued._** " You have to make a choice-------either she or I. You cannot have us both. "**_

Leaping from the bed he shouted, " Why am I always the one to make sacrifices!?"

Tiffany awoke abruptly to V's shouting, fear numbing her. " V?"

" Why is it always me?!" His voice cracked as his hands went to his head trying to squeeze the voice from his mind.

" V?! Are you ok?" Tiffany's voice broke through the madness raging within him as she searched the darkness. " Where are you? Is everything ok?"

" Go back to sleep." V's strained voice broke the silence.

" What's wrong?" Tiffany's asked as she slid from the bed, and moved cautiously around the room toward the place his voice had come from.

" There is nothing wrong, please go back to bed."

" There is too, something wrong. " She answered crossing her arms over her chest. " Please come back to bed-----we can talk if you'd like too."

" This is something I have to work out-----there is nothing you can do." Tiffany felt his bare hand on her shoulder, and she looked up into the darkness.

" Please, don't shut me out." Her hand covered his. " I love you, please-----let me in."

Her fingers squeezed his tightly, then felt his hand pull out from under hers.

" There is nothing you can do." He repeated harshly opening the door and exiting the room.

Tiffany sank onto the bed, her hands going to her head as frustration enveloped her. What had happened? Things had been going so well. Had she done something to bring their growing relationship to a sudden screeching halt. She had realized that V's personality was Schizophrenic, and had even read up on the disease-----but the thought that now occupied her mind was whether or not he had finally gone off the deep end, and if she was in danger from a true madman.


	10. Don't Close Your Eyes

_**Chapter 10**_

_**' Don't Close Your Eyes......'**_

Tiffany tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes all she could see was V walking away from her and disappearing into the darkness of the Shadow Gallery. " Damn!" She threw the covers off; grabbing one of his shirts, pulled it over her tank top and shorts then stormed out of the bedroom.

* * *

He stood, just staring------his body swaying slightly to and fro, his eyes locked onto the painting hanging before him. How many times had he found himself here in the middle of the night when his mind had been occupied with thoughts of her? He had finally lost count---------she occupied his mind most of the time now, his vendetta seemingly thrown aside like a grain of sand on a beach. The hands by his side tightened into fists, and his breathing became erratic as her image filled his mind.

" No!" The scream echoed throughout the gallery as a priceless Ming vase shattered against a stone wall and onto the floor. Throwing himself into the chair behind him, V held his head in his hands as great sobs ripped from his chest. Vengeance had dealt him a swift and fatal blow-----he would not live to see the dawn of a new day in England's history--------she would claim him as her own, and he would loose the one thing he had always been denied--------love from another human being.

It was this scene of extreme emotion that Tiffany came upon---------and the man sitting in the semi-darkness tore at her heart. Never had she seen him distraught before, never had she seen him stripped of the idea-------as vulnerable as he was now before her.

" V?" She asked softly, approaching where he sat.

V straightened upon hearing Tiffany's voice, his back going ramrod straight as he swiped at the remnants of tears that trickled down his cheeks. " Do you require something Tiffany?"

She moved to kneel in front of him, her hands taking his bare ones. " V, let me help------please don't shut me out."

Letting out a deep breath, V looked up, his eyes holding hers. " This is something I must finish alone-------you were never meant to be a part of it. You were never meant to be _**here**_." How he had wanted his alternate plan to be feasible enough to work-----but now, he knew it had only been the result of an overworked mind-------and nothing more. He would never put Tiffany in the extreme danger that he was about to face. His life was expendable-------hers, would never be in his eyes.

" But yet I'm here." Tiffany smiled as she touched his cheek, brushing away the wetness that lay there." I know that you don't believe in consequences, and sometimes neither do I but V, I just have to believe that we were brought together for a reason-------what that reason is I don't know, but _**I do know**_ I love you and I'm not leaving you now or after this is all finished." She moved toward him until finally, her lips captured his.

His arms slipped around her as he pulled her to him and pondered why seemingly now, it appeared that God **did** indeed play with dice to control the lives of men. "_**Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself any care, but for another gives its ease, and build's a Heaven in Hell's despair." (1) **_He spoke softly, his words gently caressing Tiffany's hair. " I dearly love you so that I will not place your precious life in danger."

Tiffany pulled slowly away, looking at him. " What are you talking about?"

" There is something I must show you." He rose from the chair, taking her with him. " Please meet me in the main chamber in fifteen minutes. Dress warmly, for where we tread it is damp and cold." He replied before walking away toward his dressing room.

" V....wait....." Tiffany called after him, but he did not alter his course nor look back and she felt a cold numbing chill engulf her. Why did she feel like this was the end of everything------the end of her perfect world? Sighing, she walked slowly down the hallway toward their bedroom.

* * *

V lead Tiffany down the hallway toward a spiral staircase that descended into blackness. " Take my hand-------the wrought iron can be very difficult to maneuver on in the dark." He held out his hand to her.

Tiffany smiled as she took it tightly. " I'm not afraid of the dark or what may lurk in it, V."

The mask turned to the left, in thoughtful contemplation. " I know." Slowly, he began his way down the steps.

Eric Finch sat comfortably in the chair next to the small heater that provided minimal warmth to his small three room apartment. Finch had lived there for almost fifteen years---------ever since the death of his wife and five year old son. St Mary's had rampaged through the streets of London like the Black Plaque some three hundred years earlier, wiping everything out in its hideous way. Taking a big gulp of scotch from the glass he held in his hand, Finch looked out across the skyline of what was once a vibrant and thriving city----but no more since Norsefire had come into power. He had just placed the glass on the nearby table when a call came in on his cell.

" Finch."

" Inspector, you need to come to the office immediately--------I think I've found something." Stone's voice filtered from the other side of the phone.

" This better be good Dominic." Finch huffed the answer.

" I've found a connection between Prothero, Lilliman....." There was a pause on the other end. " and a place called Larkhill."

Finch launched himself out of the chair." I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Grabbing his overcoat, he bolted out the door.

* * *

V lead Tiffany down the dark, stone staircase ." I've never been here before." She spoke quietly, her hand tightening the grip on his gloved one.

" Yes. It is the deepest part of my home. Once you know it, I should think you'll know everything."

V replied as his finger pushed a button, a secret passage opening into what appeared to be a large stone wall. Moving slowly, he guided her through a series of narrow passages leading to another door. Cautiously, Tiffany stepped out into an underground subway station. Not like most of the others that had fallen into ruin, this station looked as if it had just been built. White pristine walls and floors surrounded the train that sat silently in the blaring light of the overhead fixtures.

" It's beautiful, V. " Tiffany breathed as her eyes wandered the length of the cars. " Where did you get it?"

" Among the ruins. Once I laid the track to the station, I brought the train here and repaired it. It took me ten years to accomplish both tasks." V placed a gloved hand on the slick steel siding. " It will deliver Norsefire's final downfall."

Tiffany looked at him.

Understanding the expression that flitted across her face, V took her hand in his and stepped into the car.

" Oh my god......"

Stacks and stacks of fertilizer and gelignite lined the walls and covered the floor-------and she suddenly realized that the antique train car was no more than a rolling bomb. " V, where does this track lead?"

" This is the old Victoria line, but it is blocked somewhere between Whitehall and St James." He answered.

" Whitehall?" Tiffany said as confusion shone on her face, " V.......that's where Parliament is."

V nodded slowly, then turned to her. " During the time we have been together, you have opened my eyes to many things Tiffany, " He began, his hands resting on the stacks of explosives, " you have changed the way I perceive the world around me. Very shortly, this world that I am a part of and helped shape will end. You taught me that it is not my right to pull this lever," he motioned toward the engineer's control shift, " but the new world's." He let out a deep breath, " Yes, it will happen-------if _**you**_ want it to."

Tiffany studied the porcelain face," If I want it to? What are you talking about V?"

" It will be up to you to make that decision."

" What-------to blow up Parliament?" Tiffany asked astonished that he had the nerve to ask her to do something so utterly ridiculous. " Are you nuts?! Never mind that------I already know you are, and this plan of yours just proved it!"

" Tiffany, please......."

" V, this is crazy!" She exclaimed backing away, " I know that I said I would help you anyway I can, but sending a train car loaded with explosives to Parliament is a little too much."

Sighing heavily, V studied her." A building is a symbol, as is the act of destroying it. Symbols are given power by people. A symbol, in and of itself is powerless, but with enough people behind it, blowing up a building can change the world." (2)

" It can also get you killed.........." She crossed her arms over her chest, and watched as the masked face before her dropped. " You really want me to do this?"

" Yes."

" Blowing up Parliament is going to change the world?" She giggled softly," Sounds a little crazy to me, but if you believe that it will , then I guess I'll just have to do it. "

" I knew you would not let me down." His gloved hand touched her face gently. " Come, I have an appointment tonight, and I may require your assistance for a short period of time."

" Oh yeah?"

" I will need you to observe the Nose for a few hours. I believe that Mr. Finch and his partner may have discovered some information."

" On you?" Tiffany asked as they left the train and headed back upstairs to the gallery.

" No, on Larkhill."

* * *

Eric Finch threw the ratty tan overcoat across his chair as he entered the office he shared with Dominic Stone. " What have you got Dominic?" He peered over Stone's shoulder at the monitor.

" A connection. " Stone looked up at him. " Larkhill Resettlement Camp. Prothero's and Lilliman's employment records show that they held positions there at similar times."

" What about Codename V?" Finch asked.

" Most of the camp's records were destroyed by Norsefire for security reasons, but I believe that we may be able to find additional information from the camp's tax records." Stone smiled.

" Brilliant, Dominic! " Finch grinned, " One thing can be said about any kind of government, they keep detailed tax records." He slapped Stone on the back, " Let's go!"

V made his way down the alleyway toward the brick building that was his destination. Stopping in the darkness, he pulled the Scarlet Carson rose from his cape and looked at it, his head tilting to the right then the left in silent thought. Tonight would be different---------- no knives, no violence. Death would be delivered by the small syringe that lay hidden in the pocket of his jacket. Even if she was a monster, she did not deserve to die as the others had---------her death would be quick and painless. He smiled slightly under the mask , replaced the rose back into the safety of the cape and hurried across the street into the darkness.

* * *

Dr. Delia Surridge drew the covers back on her bed, placing the red leather bound journal on the table beside her. Slipping between the sheets, she picked the book up and held it in her hands----it contained everything about her time at Larkhill. She knew it was only a matter of time before he would come for her, and in a way, she welcomed it. Finally, she would finally be able to rest. She had retrieved the book from the floor safe for only one reason -------so he would have it-------so he could know about himself. Everything about number Five was in that journal; from the day he arrived up to the final results of the experimentation that had been conducted on him. Hopefully, this small payment would help him find forgiveness for her, but she doubted it------not after all she had done----murder could never be forgiven. Sighing, she replaced the book back on the nightstand and shut the lamp off.

* * *

Tiffany sat on the bench staring at the train. She was going to blow up Parliament-------- oh god, she was going to become a terrorist just like V! ' Very shortly, this world that I am a part of and helped shape will end. You taught me that it is not my right to pull this lever....' She heard him in her mind again, but something was different this time........something in his voice made her think. The words he had spoken now had a finality about them. Tiffany gasped when she finally wrapped her mind around the words he had spoken, and the train. He was not planning on coming back to her-------his alternative planning was nothing more than a smoke screen to protect her. She rose from the bench, anger rising deep within her as she turned to leave---------but a small sound caught her ears, and she turned toward it. She listened closely as another sound came from down the track. " Viola?"

Another meow echoed off the walls as it came closer.

" Viola?" Tiffany moved quickly down the station platform, " Here kitty, kitty....."

Again, the meow sounded as if in response. Tiffany watched as the shadows around the car began moving toward her slowly taking form. " Viola!" She cried happily as the cat hurried to her side-------followed by four smaller forms----two black and two white and black. " You had babies!" She watched as the kittens played around at her feet, chasing their mother's twitching tail. " V is going to have a cow when.......oh crap! I've got to get back to the Gallery. Com'on guys!" She turned and hurried toward the steps, the kittens tucked protectively in her arms.

* * *

Delia Surridge awoke from a restless sleep and slowly sat up in the bed, catching a familiar scent. She could sense that she wasn't alone-----something or someone stood within the shadows of the room. " Roses." She slowly closed her eyes. " It's you, isn't it? You've come to kill me."

" Yes." A whisper from the shadows.

Tears began to streak down her face. " Thank god, oh thank god."

* * *

Finch inserted the first of several discs that contained tax information for Larkhill and waited patiently as the computer screen jumped to life. Several names began appearing, then slowly a whole list began to scroll down the screen-------- each with the word 'deceased ' following them.

"Oh bloody hell......" Finch gasped as he watched.

" He killed them all? It's not possible........" Dominic's voice trailed off in disbelief.

" According to this Dominic, there was only one remaining person from that list whose bio was still open--------a Dr. Diana Stanton......put a trace on her, find out where she is." Finch ordered as he took a seat behind his desk.

" I'm on it Chief." Stone's fingers flew across the keyboard as he began compiling any information in the Fate computer system.

Finch pulled out his pipe and lighter settling back in the chair.

* * *

" Are you afraid?" V's voice floated from the edge of the room's shadows------an avenging angel, ready to take his sacrifice.

" No, no.........I thought I would be at first, then ….....no, I'm not." Delia answered as she wiped tears from her eyes. " I'm relieved." She replied as V moved from the shadows to sit beside her on the bed.

" I always knew that you would come back." Delia paused looking at the mask, " The night you made your escape, I saw you--------you were standing against the flames, looking straight at me."

The mask almost nodded.

" I knew then that someday you would find me..........what....what happened at Larkhill........what we did.......that I could do such horrible things like that." Surridge's voice dropped to an almost confessional tone. " For years I blamed it ….....blamed it on the government, on the authority I could never stand up to, but living with that knowledge of what I did all those years ago has made me understand otherwise. I alone was accountable."

" No Delia," The soft voice that came from the mask in front of her made her look up , " you were never alone. There were others."

" It's funny. I was given one of your roses today. I wasn't sure you were the terrorist until I saw it." She smiled at the hovering mask just inches from her. " What a strange coincidence that I should be given one today."

" There are no coincidences, Delia only the illusion of coincidence. " He took her hand in his. " Maybe in another time, things could have been different."

" Oppenheimer was able to change more than the course of a war you know. He changed the entire course of human history. Is it wrong to hold onto that kind of hope?" Delia asked as she looked at the paleness of her hand wrapped in black leather.

" Only if human misery caused that hope to grow. I did not come for what you both may have hoped to do Delia, I came for what you both did." V reached into his cloak. " I have another rose. This one is for you." He handed it to her.

" Are you going to kill me now?" She looked into the black eye slits.

" I killed you ten minutes ago." He replied, holding the hypodermic needle up for her to see.

" Is there any pain?" She asked, her fingers caressing the rose petals gently.

" No. No pain."

" Thank you." Delia sighed softly, raising the rose to her nose and inhaling. " May I ask you something?"

" Anything."

" May I see your face?"

V's hand raised the mask carefully revealing himself to Surridge.

" Is it to late to say I'm sorry?" She asked as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

" Never."

" I'm so sorry." Her hand touched his face gently, " I'm so very, very sorry."

V took her hand from his cheek and laid it gently on the bed. " I know." He whispered softly as he quietly closed sightless eyes.

_**(1) William Blake------Songs of Experience**_

_**(2) V for Vendetta-----Movie script**_


	11. Love's Revenge

_**AN: **_ Hello to all my fellow V fans...I do apologize for the long break in this story, but a lot has happened in my life since I published the last chapter, but I am back now and ready to put the final touches to this love story on paper...there will be one last chapter to this saga of V and Tiffany, and it will have a powerful ending...to all of you, I promise that. So please enjoy this chapter, and as always, please let me know how you liked it.

Vigilante

_**Chapter 11**_

_**Love's Revenge**_

Tiffany hurried to the spiral staircase she and V had came down only hours before, her arms full of mewing, wiggling kittens with Viola trailing behind. What was that crazy man she loved up too? She knew something was wrong-she had felt it deep within her...something very bad was about to happen...something she knew she had to stop.

V made his way through the shadows of the night, across London's rooftops, finally dropping onto the safety of the building that covered the Shadow Gallery. Slowly, he looked up glancing at the diamond filled sky. _**' Starry starry night paint your palette blue and gray, look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul...' (1) **_Slowly he shook his head. _**' Everything is coming to it's final conclusion...must I also?'**_

The rooftop door groaned open under V's grip as he stepped inside out of the bitter cold. It took only a matter of seconds before his ears caught the sound of the elevator slowly making its way to the top of the landing. He sensed nothing unusual as he moved into the shadows of the hallway, waiting . Tiffany stepped from the lift, one of V's cloaks pulled tightly against her. She paused momentarily looking up and down the small entrance before making her way outside into the bitter cold. Sighing, V silently slipped from the shadows to stand behind her..

Sensing he was there, she turned. . " V...what is going on? What are you planning? And don't tell me that it's nothing to worry about..." She paused, her hand reaching for his black clad arm. " It has something to do with that train you showed me, doesn't it?"

V's head tilted as he looked at her. She was indeed a creature of beauty, long removed from the thin and pitiful form he had brought into the gallery almost a year ago. My god, was it sinful to love someone as much as he loved her at this moment? He felt his heart fill with sadness." I am afraid my time here on this world will soon come to an end Tiffany." His head dipped, he didn't dare trust himself to look at her... " It is time for my final curtain call..."

" No! " The cry that escaped Tiffany's lips wrenched V's gut." You can't do this...I won't let... Her hand grabbed onto the thick material that covered his arm and shoulder. " I won't loose you, not now..."

" It is my destiny...my right..." His hand curled into a clenched fist as he brought it to his chest.

..

" What about my rights?" She glared at him. " You have always told me that every person in this country has god given rights...rights that Norsefire could never take away from us..."

" Yes..." V watched as she moved closer to him.

" You're taking those rights away from me..." Tiffany's eyes pleaded with him for understanding. " I want my rights...I want the right to love you without fear, or questions...I want the right to love

you as I please. " She moved on him before he could protest, the wig and mask landing on the floor at their feet. Tiffany smiled softly as her hands went to his face, her fingers gently touching the cross-crossed scars that traveled across leathery cheeks. " I __will not loose you now...or ever..."

Her arms circled around his neck as her lips touched his in a lite touch and V could not but help to do the same to her-if only for a moment.

" No...I can't..." He pushed her gently away, retrieving the wig and mask.. " Tiffany, please..." His eyes locked with hers as he replaced his alter ego over the burned visage he had grown to loathe. " I must follow through with what I have planned, or England will be lost...forever."

She watched as the lift disappear from sight and a cold, numbness spread through her like a flash fire. She knew that she would do whatever she had to do to save his life...even if it meant following him into hell itself...

V walked down the deserted train tracks toward Victoria Station, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He had only one chance to pull this off, and return to Tiffany. Reaching under his cloak, he checked the tightness of the knife belt around the metal chest piece beneath his jacket he had borrowed from his old sparing partner. " Ah Mondego, I require your assistance for this last act..." His hand stayed its motion and he lowered his head in respect.

The sound of distant voices pulled V's attention back to the present, and he glanced down the tracks to the location where Creedy would be waiting for him. A slight laugh escaped hidden lips as he thought about the fact that he would never hand himself over to Creedy. The only thing he wanted at the moment was to feel his gloved hands around the man's neck, squeezing the life from him...

Tiffany pulled the black sweatshirt over her head and tucked her hair carefully into the hoodie. She hurried, shoving the pistol she had found in the weapons room into the back band of her jeans. Norsefire had taken everything she had loved from her...her self respect, her courage, and most of all, her father...and she would be damned if it would take the man she loved also. She knew where the meeting was to take place and when...she had spent many hours in V's media room learning to operate the computer system and cameras. Time was running out...luckily, she had also learned the many shortcuts from the gallery to various locations throughout the underground giving her enough of a lead to be at Victoria Station before V's arrival. Picking up the small torch, she left the gallery, pulling the door closed behind her, shutting with a dull thud. There was no turning back now...she was on her own, and V's life depended on what the outcome of the next few hours would be.

Peter Creedy flashed the torch in various directions throughout the station landing while his men checked and searched every possible place for anything that the terrorist could have hidden. V had become a thorn in his side, and he would do anything to get rid of him.

" It's clean sir, nothing is showing up on the imager." One of the soldiers looked up from the small x-ray device he was holding in his hand at Creedy.

Creedy took a deep breath. " Bollocks..."

" Penny for the guy..."

The voice startled Creedy's men and all swung to face the black-caped figure standing amidst them at the same time.

V tilted the mask upward to stare at the man standing several feet away from him. " I have upheld my part of the bargain Mr. Creedy...now the question is, ...have you?."

Creedy called to the top of the stairway. " Bring him down...".

V watched as a man, his head obscured by a black bag that hung limply around his neck was pulled down the set of steps and pushed to his knees before Creedy. " I want to see him."

Creedy nodded to one of the men and the bag was removed from Sutler's head, terror filling his eyes as he looked around..

"At last, we finally meet..." The Fawkes mask appeared mere inches from his face. " I have something for you Chancellor, a farewell gift. For all the things you have done, for all the things you may have done, and for the only thing you have left..." V tucked the Scarlet Carson into the lapel of Sutler's suit. " Goodbye Chancellor...Mr. Creedy..." Rising quietly, the vigilante moved away.

A smirk crossed Creedy's lips as he looked at Sutler. " Disgusting." Raising the gun, he pulled the trigger, then watched as Sutler slumped onto the wet floor, dead. " Now that that's over with... it's time to have a look at your face." He turned to V. " Take off your mask..."

" No."

Tiffany hid behind the debris that had become part of the destruction caused by Norsefire's tightfisted regime watching the scene unfold before her. Nine of Creedy's men gathered around V, their guns leveled and ready...just waiting. Very carefully she pulled the gun from behind her and took aim. " Drop the gun Father, or I will kill you..."

V's head snapped in the direction the voice had come from.

Creedy's mouth dropped open, staring at the lithe figure walking toward him from the shadows. " You? You're suppose to be dead...Alex said he killed you..." His voice held a sneer.

" No Father, as you can see, I am very much alive. Now, tell your men to drop their weapons, or so help me, I will blow your bloody frickin head off..." Tiffany snarled as she cocked the pistol.

Creedy looked at his daughter, his hand raising his gun..." Kill them both..."

V rocked backwards and down onto one knee as the bullets from Creedy's henchmen pierced his body, then regaining his composure, rose to his feet... Creedy's soldiers lay in pools of blood on the deserted station's cold floor in a matter of seconds and he turned his attention to the man before him..

Creedy watched in horror as V walked toward him, after he had discharged the final rounds from his gun into the vigilante. " Why won't you die?"

" Because Mr. Creedy, there is more than flesh under this mask...there is an idea, and ideas... are

…...bullet proof..." His hands circled around the man's neck as he lifted his body from the wet cement floor, ramming his back into the iron bars that blocked off Victoria Station from the rest of the outside world. " Like Sutler before you, Mr. Creedy...I also have a gift for you...for the only thing you have left...your worthless life..." V's hands tightened as bones popped... then finally the body fell to the floor unceremoniously. Staggering, he let the platemail slide from his hand, and walked to where Tiffany lay, a small amount of blood had began to pool under her right shoulder.

" Why did you not listen? Why did you have to be here..." Lifting her up in his arms, his body ached with every movement he made as he became aware of wounds in his legs and arms that would have to be tended to, but right now, Tiffany was the priority. It seemed that the extra platemail he had added to the chest plate had worked, none of the bullets had pierced his chest and no vital organs had been touched... .he was bruised and battered, but very much alive... Slowly, he began up the long spiral staircase toward the Shadow Gallery.

Chief Inspector Eric Finch moved cautiously down the tunnel toward the location he had heard the shots ring out from. He held his gun at the ready, his breath being released every few steps. The dim lights from the track pushed him onward, every sense he possessed on high alert. After traveling a subtle distance, the movement of an opening door caught his eyes and Finch froze, watching as a cloaked figure struggled to stay upright, the weight of the human figure he bore in his arms all but bringing him to his knees.

" Hold it right there!" Finch's voice echoed off the tunnel walls as he walked cautiously toward the figure.

" Inspector Finch...it is a pleasure to met you...but it would have been preferred to be under much different circumstances..." V's voice was shallow beneath the mask.

" What do you have there?" Finch inquired glancing at the form in his arms.

" A courageous young woman...who like me, believes in justice..." V momentarily lost his balance and swayed uncontrollably...

Finch reholstered the pistol and hurried to V's side taking the unconscious form from his arms. " You need a doctor-both of you do..."

" No..." V blurted out, " Help me get her to the Shadow Gallery...I can tend to her there..."

" I don't think you are in any shape to take care of anyone..." Finch's voice trailed off as he watched blood begin to pool at V's feet. " I may not be a doctor, but I do know something about first aid."

He glanced quickly at the girl's bloody shoulder. " I think the wound is superficial... "

" As do I..." V's voice faltered as dizziness started to overcome him. " But I won't know for sure until I can examine it..."

" Which way?" Finch asked adjusting the weight in his arms.

" To the right, and up the stairs..." V leaned against the wall momentarily, leaving a bloodied " V " in his path as he slowly moved onward..

Finch managed to pry the door open enough to get a shoe between it and the frame, his shoulder bearing the brunt of the weight as V passed through the doorway, the door slamming shut behind both men as Finch followed the cloak figure who was now leaving a trail of blood behind him.

The walk to the Gallery entrance took only minutes, but to the masked man, it felt more like hours. The darkness had been closing in on him with every step he had taken, his stamina the only thing keeping the blackness at bay. Slowly pulling the camouflaged piece from the wall he entered the security code and stepped inside as the heavy door opened , Finch following as V lead him down the hallway toward a series of closed doors, opening the last one to the left. " You may place her there..."

V's breath was labored, " I shall return as soon as I possibly can. You will find any medical items you need in the loo under the sink."

Finch watched as he disappeared through the doorway, and then laid Tiffany gently on the bed. He found various medical supplies as was told, bringing the entire box back out with him from the loo.. Gently, he slit the black pullover open, revealing the hole in Tiffany's shoulder. " Bloody hell..." Taking his jacket off, he rolled his sleeves up and began to work on the unconscious girl.

The infirmary was equipped with medical supplies V had taken from one of Sutler's private train cars...cars that had originally been destined for one of the several hospitals designated as an emergency site for Norsefire party members...but this particular one never made it's destination, the masked man had made certain of that.. Slowly, V removed the cape and dropped it onto the floor, blood splattering upon the clean white tiles. The zipper of the Jacobin jacket he wore opened as gloved fingers struggled to perform the simple task of what seemed to take hours instead of minutes. Finally, he slid the jacket from his body, followed by the bloody and torn shirt. Quickly, he set up an IV and hooked up a pint of his own blood, then removed his gloves steadying his shaking body with his hands against the sink, looking into the mirror. Reaching up, the mask clattered into the porcelain basin as V studied the seeping gapes in his shoulders. Most of the bullets had gone cleanly through his flesh, and it was those ones he would tend to first. Taking the bottle of alcohol, he doused his upper body with it, washing away the caked blood from the wounds then wiping them clean as best as he could. Steeling

himself, the tip of the needle punctured the skin and he pulled the catgut through the ragged edges of the rip closing it tightly. Taking a deep breath, he continued the task before him as the blackness began creeping again back into his mind...

Finch stood by the side of the bed and looked at his handiwork. It had taken him almost an hour to clean and sew up the wound in Tiffany's shoulder. He hoped that she hadn't lost to much blood, and would soon regain consciousness...at least for the sake of the vigilante.

" How is she?" V's voice broke Finch's train of thought and he turned to face the masked hero.

" I 've done all I can..." Finch replied as V approached the bed. " Isn't she Creedy's daughter...the one that disappeared about a year ago?"

" Yes." he answered softly. " I found her in an alleyway very near death. I brought her back here...to the Shadow Gallery and nursed her back to the young woman you see before you..." V slowly sat down beside her, taking her hand in his gloved one. " And in that year Mr. Finch, something happened I thought I would never have a chance to do...I fell in love."

Finch smiled at the man. " What you did today will go down in history...you know that, don't you?" He took his coat from the chair and pulled it on.

" I don't want to be part of history Mr. Finch...I just did what others should have done long ago...I just gave them a shove...a push into a new world..." V looked up at the man standing next to him.

" Hmm...well, I'm afraid the citizens won't agree with you...they will see you as their savior..."

V laughed softly..." I suppose they will... the vox populi will again have a strong voice."

Finch's smile faded, " How are you?"

V let out a deep breath. " I will survive."

Finch shook his head. " You know that you will be safe with me...no one will know you survived, I will see to it."

" Thank you, Inspector."

Finch turned to walk from the bedroom. " If you need anything, you know where to find me...you did quite well as Rookwood."

V tilted his head upward. " I do apologize about that Inspector, but I need you."

Finch stared at him. " I guess I better go clean up the mess. " He headed out of the bedroom, V following behind.

Finch waited patiently as the gallery door slowly swung open, then extended his hand. " Thank you."

V shook the man's hand and watched as Finch stepped through the door.

Leaving out a deep breath, he looked around the gallery. His vendetta was finished, and he had survived, but the most important thing in his life lay on his bed, recovering from a gun shot wound that he had caused. He could have gotten her killed...shaking his head, he snapped himself out the thought, and turned to return to the bedroom. It was only a matter of time now...maybe with God's help, he wouldn't face the unknown future alone.

_**1). " Vincent" by Don McClean**_


End file.
